


Criminal Matchmaking

by MoonShineD, StraightShooter (MsLadySmith)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-08-04
Packaged: 2019-06-17 23:52:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 48,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15472857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonShineD/pseuds/MoonShineD, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsLadySmith/pseuds/StraightShooter
Summary: A pair of us writers in the FB group "Mystrade is our Division: Fanfiction Writers and Readers" decided to create a SherStrade-centric role-play fan-fiction via FB chat. This is the transcript of a story we have created.------------------The various roles are played by:Mycroft................StraightShooterAnthea.................MoonshineDSherlock...............MoonshineDGreg...................StraightshooterSeb Andrews.......MoonshineDPhillippe..............StraightshooterOther roles will be identified by chapter.





	1. Chapter 1

**Mycroft**

I am sitting quietly at my desk, eyes closed, massaging my temples to quell the coming headache. I haven't gotten a decent night's sleep in days, with Sherlock being up at all hours, ranting about his boredom.

**Anthea**

Entering the boss’ office, I immediately can tell it's going to be one of those days. Since his brother moved in, he's been having them a lot more. "Sir," I set the Martinique file on his desk, "good news and news."

**Mycroft**

I look up at Anthea wearily, then look at the file. "News?"

**Anthea**

I hand him his migraine med before updating him. "Good news is the situation is almost under control. Bad news is that the Agent is no longer available."

**Mycroft**

I sigh heavily. "I see we've gotten a full report from Hanson, at least. Do we have anyone else available to take over?"

**Anthea**

"No one with the proper skill set." There is one option but it's the final last ditch option so I don't suggest it.

**Mycroft**

I sit back in my chair, my hands steepled in front of me as I think. "There can't be no one..."

**Anthea**

I stand there quietly, typing away on my phone in hopes of finding any other Agent possible. "There is one option but you won't like it."

**Mycroft**

"Will I like it less than going to Martinique myself? You know how I despise leg work..."

**Anthea**

"Maybe, Sir." I send the file to his laptop showing Lestrade's qualifications. Diplomacy, medium level clearance, knowledge of the language and customs, customs, negotiation experience, and ability to adapt. "I've sent you the file. Will there be anything else?" It's a futile question but it won't hurt to ask.

**Mycroft**

"I suppose NSY can spare him for a few weeks - I will make some calls. But with him away, my brother will be even worse. You don't suppose..." I look at Anthea hopefully. "... Perhaps Sherlock could accompany him? I'm sure Sherlock's skills can fill in where Lestrade might be lacking..."

**Anthea**

I chuckle at his devious plan as I look up Sherlock's file. "I've sent the file to your laptop. Our Compatibility App agrees with your assessment." I would hate to have to fix it if it didn't. "Shall I be seeing DI Lestrade's Commander immediately? Or do you wish to break the news to your brother first?"

**Mycroft**

"I will let you arrange for Lestrade's leave. I will discuss the case with Sherlock." I get up from my desk. "Let's plan on their departure tomorrow afternoon." I relax almost immediately, imagining a nice, quiet evening by myself tomorrow night, a glass of wine and a bubble bath the only things on my agenda.

**Anthea**

"Yes Sir. Consider it done." As I arrange the travel plans I also do a bit of editing on Mr. Holmes' itinerary. "Also, it appears you are on a vacation for the next three days. Some rest should help alleviate your migraines. Enjoy." I exit the office quickly so he doesn't have a chance to veto his time off.


	2. Chapter 2

**Greg**

I've finally found the bottom of my inbox - took all morning, but I did it. Sally pokes her head into my office. "Boss, the chief wants to see you. Sounds important." I shake my head - so much for being caught up. I grab my suit jacket, shrugging it on as I head down the hall. I knock on the Chief's door and walk in when he answers.

**Anthea**

Lestrade walks into the rather small office at NSY. Before I have a chance to say anything his Commander speaks. "Lestrade, you have been temporally reassigned." I roll my eyes at the Alpha Male posturing of Chief Whatever-his-name-is. "What he means, Sir, is that you are needed by MI6 for a few weeks."

**Greg**

"Reassigned?" I look at the file, my eyebrows starting to climb. "Martinique? I don't have the skills for this kind of case..."

**Anthea**

"You are the best qualified candidate." The Chief goes to speak again but my glare seems to be enough to keep him quiet. "Your skill set is exactly what we need."

**Greg**

"You must be pretty desperate if you need me. I'm rubbish at undercover work, though - you know that..."

**Anthea**

I stand up and walk over to him. "You are not going to continue with that nonsense. If we didn't know you were the best, we had I wouldn't be here right now." I make a note to 'accidentally' send his file to his secure email address so he can see what the experts see. "We need someone we can trust, that can't be corrupted, level headed, and speaks French. Are those, or are they not, a fitting description of you?"

**Greg**

"I like to think it is, but..." I look over the file. "I'm going to need help. Any suggestions?"

**Anthea**

"A partner has been assigned. They will meet you in the plane at 10am tomorrow morning. You will also be given any needed supplies at a thorough briefing." I pull at MasterCard from my pocket. "You are expected to dress the part of a Middle-Class tourist which requires a completely new wardrobe." I hand him the black card with his name on it.

**Greg**

I look at her, and look at the card. "Well, then I'd best be off. Going to need to pick up a few things." I give her a wink and a smile. I tuck the file under my arm. "I hope I get some down time when this is over. Haven't had a proper vacation in ages, and a few days on one of those black sand beaches sounds like heaven to me."

**Anthea**

I walk with him til we get to his office. "Sir, on a side note, buy more than what you think you need. Secondly, you are aware that the only reason you are not a full time Agent is because you routinely turn down our employment offers. Lastly, I suggest you check your secured email account." I send the file from my phone as well as a schedule. "Are you in need of anything else before you go?"

**Greg**

"I like my job, Anthea. These little assignments are a break from the monotony for me." I smile at her. "Text me if there is anything specific I should be bringing. Otherwise, I'm off to do some shopping."


	3. Chapter 3

**Sherlock**

"No."

**Mycroft**

I walk into my flat to find my brother draped across the couch. "Sherlock, I have the perfect solution to your boredom."

**Sherlock**

"Again, No. Are you going deaf in your old age or do you have cake stuck in your ears?" His ideas of relieving boredom is usually my idea of being bored.

**Mycroft**

"Queen and country need you on a case. Your skills are desperately needed, brother mine." I stand by the sofa and look down at him. "I have volunteered your services.  You will be partnered with another agent for the duration... one whose skill set complements yours perfectly for the task. You will leave in one hour."

**Sherlock**

"No. The last time you paired me up I has to deal with a six-foot toddler who had to make it all about them. We almost didn't catch our mark because she refused to leave until she found her special socks." It didn't help that she kept trying to seduce me and we were stuck in some misbegotten township.

**Mycroft**

"No time to argue. Get packed. You and your partner will be posing as middle-income tourists on holiday." I hand him the file on the case. "Here is what information we have. The agent previously on the case was injured - not related to the case."

**Sherlock**

I toss the file on the floor. "Can't. Busy. Going to the Yard tomorrow to annoy Anderson. Molly has fresh parts for me." However, getting out from my Brothers thumb may be pleasant for a while. "Unless you're willing to discuss me moving when I get back I believe this conversation is over." I stand up on the couch and step over the back on to his antique plant stand, or whatever it is, then onto the floor.

**Mycroft**

"I would be willing to discuss that, in the event you prove successful on this case." I reply evenly. Playing to his competitive nature, my tone implies heavily that I don't believe he can do it.

**Sherlock**

"Define successful Brother mine. I know your games well. Willing to discuss is not good enough." I look for any clues on his person that I can use to my advantage but all I can see it that he had a migraine earlier. "Let’s deal. I complete the case without you having to fix any situation I could cause and when I return you help me move to that flat I found on Baker Street."

**Mycroft**

"If you can manage to resolve the case completely, without my so much as lifting a finger to assist you, I will not only help you move, but I will pay your first 3 months rent."

**Sherlock**

"Deal." I grab the folder. Martinique, middle class, married. Subject is a male- "Wait. Married? You better not have paired me up with another dimwitted imbecile like last time. I do not have time to do my job if I must wait for her manicure to dry." How am I supposed to pretend to be married? "Is there a reason we must be married. Can she be my sister instead?"

**Mycroft**

"I assure you, he is quite an able operative."

**Sherlock**

"He? Who?"

**Mycroft**

"Someone with whom you are very familiar, brother." I give him a cryptic grin.

**Sherlock**

"Oh Dear Lord tell me it isn't you?" Who could it be?

**Mycroft**

"Heavens, no. I despise legwork." I huff. "A car will be here to pick you up in 45 minutes. I suggest you pack quickly."

**Sherlock**

As I contemplate all the possible agents I pack for two weeks in a Caribbean Island. There are no agents I can think of that 'compliment' my skill set. On the way out the door I hold out my hand for the Visa I should be given.

**Mycroft**

"Your travel and housing expenses are already covered. You should have no need for your usual charge account." I stand up, hands casually in my pockets. "Tick tock, brother. Hurry up."

**Sherlock**

"What? What about food? Travel? Rental car? Some emergency? You can't really be sending me off to a Foreign Country with no funds?!" He wouldn't dare. "At least give me a few hundred."

**Mycroft**

"Your partner will be able to assist once you are in country, never fear."

**Sherlock**

"I hate you Brother. You shall pay for this. When I return you will have Baker Street fully furnished and pay the rent for a year." I storm out the front door making sure my Belstaff smacks him on the way out.

**Mycroft**

I shake my head as my brother storms out the door. I certainly hope this goes well, for everyone's sake...


	4. Chapter 4

**Sherlock**

Because my Brother is both sadistic and plans for every contingency, including the traffic we didn't have, I am on the plane a good half hour early. I put in my head phones and my eye mask and settle in to sleep. I can only hope the over the counter pills will be effective enough that I can sleep until the crash, when the plane plummets into the ocean, or gets blown down over the jungle, or any manor of things. I know it isn't logical but my brain tries to convince me otherwise.

**Greg**

After checking my bag, I head to the gate and am immediately escorted onto the plane, seated in first class. I start to settle in when I happen to turn and see the man sitting in the seat across the aisle from me and do a double-take. "Sherlock?"  I reach over and poke his shoulder.

**Sherlock**

"Are we crashing yet?" I jump up awake and alert ready to grab a pack and jump from the plane. Instead I see Greg Lestrade. Brother will pay even more for this. My husband, of course, Mycroft is too observant for my own good. I settle back into my seat. "Gavin."

**Greg**

I shake my head. "If we're going to pull this operation off, you need to learn my name, and actually use it, _dear husband_..." I say sarcastically.

**Sherlock**

"Yes. Of course George." The plane starts to rumble down the runway and the fasten belt light comes on. I open the bottle of Nyquil and take another shot.

**Greg**

"Nervous about flying, are we?" I chuckle. "I'm surprised."

**Sherlock**

"Don't be dense. I have no fear of flying. It's crashing I have a problem with." I try to strap in but my buckle is obviously broken.

**Greg**

"Relax, _dear_ " I reach over and put a hand on his shoulder. "I've made this trip a few times over the years. Never a problem."

**Sherlock**

"Statistically every time you safely complete the journey increases your chances of a non-safe journey the next time." The pilots voice comes over the speaker giving us the same crap they always do. I quickly move seats to the one next to Greg and try to strap in. "Dammit!! Are all the buckles broken?!"

**Greg**

I grab his hands and pull them away from the buckle. "Let me." I calmly fasten his seatbelt and tighten it across his hips for him. "Just. Relax. You'll be fine."

**Sherlock**

"Yes, thank you for the rousing speech Gary. I feel much better now." I finish off the bottle of Nyquil and pull out my cigarettes. My hands shake as I try, and fail, to light it.

**Greg**

I take his cigarettes and tuck them into my pocket. "No, Sherlock - non-smoking flight. Nicotine patch?" I ask.

**Sherlock**

I lift my sleeves and show him two on one arm and three on the other. The sixth patch is not visible with clothes on. "It’s a private plane. Smoking laws don't matter."

**Greg**

"Nope. No smoking." I sit back in my seat, trying to relax, resting my hand on Sherlock's knee with a small grin.

**Sherlock**

I grab his hand and start a few breathing exercises. Fairly soon we are in the air and things have evened out.

**Greg**

The bubbly flight attendant brings me a glass of whiskey, which I take calmly as Sherlock leans back and tries to relax.

**Sherlock**

I go into my Mind Palace and sort through the information I have on the case. Thought of Gregory keep popping through. My last thought before sleep is that for the next two weeks he will be my husband.

**Greg**

I'm reading the book I'd brought for the flight, when the pilot warns of upcoming turbulence. I make sure Sherlock's seatbelt is still buckled, since he's lost in thought, and check mine as well.

**Sherlock**

"For Fuck’s Sake." The plane starts to shake apart and any minute now it will plummet to earth in little pieces. I try to get my belt off, but the damn thing is still stuck. I start to claw at the cushion where the buckle is connected to the chair.

**Greg**

I grab his hands again and hold them firmly. "Relax. Breathe." I whisper calmly in his ear.

**Sherlock**

I slap his hands away. "I’m fine. It was shock. That's all." I quickly reach over and grab my pack of cigarettes. I almost manage to get one lit as I fiddle with the buckle. My breathing is becoming difficult and I feel all the signs of beginning panic coming on. "Get this damn thing off of me."

**Greg**

"Sherlock!" I snap at him, grabbing his wrists hard. "Calm the fuck down. It's just a little turbulence... it'll pass."

**Sherlock**

His words start to register as the plane evens out. "Of course. It's fine. I'm fine." I finally get the damn belt unbuckled and stand up. As I light my cigarette I notice a few small scratches on my hand that I must have gotten in my attempt to escape.

**Greg**

I get up, snatch the cigarette from him yet again, and grab him by the collar. "Please sit down, _darling_ " I whisper in his ear. The flight attendant gives me a knowing smile - she's apparently had to deal with nervous flyers before. "Come sit with me." I say in my most soothing voice.

**Sherlock**

I notice the attendant giving us her complete attention. "Yes, _love_ , as you wish." This may be a private plane but anyone could be a spy. "So. What now?" I pull out my phone and see we still have over eight hours before we get to Martinique.

**Greg**

I lead him back to his seat and push him into it, buckling his seatbelt again. "I want you to close your eyes and relax for me." I thread my fingers through his, clasping his hand firmly. The turbulence has already lessened significantly. "You see? Nothing happened. Just some bumpy weather."

**Sherlock**

I can't relax as he holds my hand. "Logically I get that." I shrug it off. "I play the violin at all hours of the day and night."

**Greg**

"I'm going to try and get a little shuteye before we get there. Will you promise not to leave your seat if I do?"

**Sherlock**

I roll my eyes and look out the window at the long expanse of water below. "No promises." I whisper and secretly am happy that he forgot he was holding my hand.

**Greg**

I lean against Sherlock's shoulder and doze off, confident that he's not going to go anywhere (and if he does, it'd wake me). I wake a few hours later, to find that Sherlock has also fallen asleep. With some subtle shifting, I am able to get us situated so that he is leaning against me, and the flight attendant brings me a blanket to tuck around him while he sleeps. We are within an hour of landing when he starts to wake.

**Sherlock**

I had gone back to the dream of being married to Greg. In the dream we were taking a nap on the couch at 221 B Baker St. When I wake up I find we are in a similar position as in the dream. The arm rest between the seats had been lifted up and I had snuggled into his side a fair bit. His cheek was on the top of my head and a blanket was laid over us. I was loath to move and disturb the spell.

**Greg**

"Glad to see you were finally able to relax a bit." I whisper in his ear. "We're nearly there."

**Sherlock**

"Mmm." I open my eyes and start to move around a bit. I get up and stretch to get circulation going again. "Did you get a chance to sleep?" He had been holding me when I woke up so he must have dozed off for a while. There's no other reason for him being that close.

**Greg**

"A bit. Been reading for a while now, though." I held up my novel, now half-finished with it. "You seemed to be sleeping pretty soundly."

**Sherlock**

I'm strangely satisfied to see he was reading a copy of Lord of the Rings in French. "I will write a review to the Nyquil people." Though I did sleep I also woke up with a mild hangover. Land is in sight and the pilots disembodied voice comes on to tell us it's time to land.

**Greg**

I pat his knee gently. Once he'd calmed down a bit, he was wonderful to be around, and I certainly didn't mind being his pillow for most of the flight. "Descent is usually a bit rough, but don't worry - we're perfectly safe." I give his knee a squeeze. "We'll be at our hotel in no time."

**Sherlock**

"Don't patronize me Graham." I put all of my focus on where his hand is on my leg and every other point of contact. We both forgot to put the chair divider back down so there are a few places that we barely touch but enough that I can pin point all my attention on him. He smells like ink, coffee, cigarettes, and a scent I can only describe as SunShine if SunShine had a smell.

**Greg**

"Not patronizing you. Reassuring you." I smile at him, getting a little lost in those blue eyes of his.

**Sherlock**

"If you say so _shmookims_ " Though it was difficult to keep a serious facade his reaction made it priceless.

**Greg**

I try not to roll my eyes at him. I can feel the descent in my ears, and yawn repeatedly, trying to clear them.

**Sherlock**

"Do you prefer babe? How about lover? Or sweetheart?" I start going thru a plethora of sickening sweet pet names in order to get my mind off the landing. "Doll? Sweets? There's always the more current language of millennial like bae or boo."

**Greg**

"Whatever you want, _dear_." I reply a bit more sharply than intended. I lean over and whisper "Just remember my first name is Greg, all right?"

**Sherlock**

"Greg? Is that what you're calling yourself now days, Angel?" He rolls his eyes at me. "You're not even trying, Cuddle Muffin."

**Greg**

A rumble beneath us notifies us that we have touched down. The pilot announces our arrival at the Martinique Aimé Césaire International Airport, giving us a quick report of the current weather conditions (beautiful, sunny, and warm, of course). When the plane pulls up to the gate, we collect our carry-on baggage and head off the plane to baggage claim and customs, which goes surprisingly smoothly, and into a waiting taxi.

**Sherlock**

"Puddin'? Cookie? Stud? Do you have a preference of sexual or cute? Should I point out your personality or sexual prowess?" He must have finally reached the end of his rope as he pushes me a bit roughly into the cab. Oh, this is going to be fun,

"How does Daddy sound?" The look of abject horror puts me into giggles the rest of the trip to the hotel.

**Sherlock**

We depart the plane and get our luggage delivered to us right there. I feel a bit nauseated from the heat and suffocating humidity. "What wonderfully quaint hotel will we be staying at?" Knowing Mycroft, it could be any place with two rooms and a roof.

**Greg**

"You get to be as surprised as I am, Sherlock," I say as I give the address to the driver. "I have no idea where we're staying." The short drive is quiet, once Sherlock got over his need to call me every pet name he could think of.


	5. Chapter 5

**Sherlock**

The establishment appears to be swanky and quite better than I expected. "My Brother must be feeling guilty for making you come to such a hot place." Its late in the Evening and still warm enough that my shirt sleeves are rolled up and the collar unbuttoned.

**Greg**

"Maybe he's feeling guilty because he made you come along." I frown at him. He's pretty, but damn, he was getting on my nerves right now.

**Sherlock**

"You obviously don't know my Brother well." We go to the registration desk and I request the reservation for Holmes. "Sorry Sir but I don't have a reservation for Holmes."

**Greg**

I step up to the desk, and in perfect French, and ask "Reservation for Lestrade?" The young man behind the desk smiles. "Ah, here it is. One room, non-smoking, king bed..."

I raise an eyebrow. "One bed?" I give Sherlock a sideways glance... thank God he doesn't speak French.

**Sherlock**

"What did he say?" Lestrade has the same pinched look on his face that he gets when working with Anderson and Donovan.

**Greg**

"The reservation is in my name... only one room..." I chat with the clerk for another moment, then turn to Sherlock again. "It's the only room available."

**Sherlock**

"Fine. Whatever. Can we go now? Please?" I need a shower and a meal, maybe both at the same time.

**Greg**

Another few words with the clerk, and he hands me a pair of electronic key cards, and directed the bell hop to take our bags to the room. "I'll order you room service, Sherlock. Let's just head up to the room, all right?" I shake my head.

**Sherlock**

"Thank you, Gavin." We follow the bell hop to the top floor. The plaque on the door says Luxury Honeymoon Suite. "You've GOT to be kidding me."

**Greg**

"Yes, darling... your brother insisted." I nod. "Only the best for you and your husband." The bell hop took our bags in and set them in the bedroom. I tipped him generously, and he left us alone. "All right, now that we are alone, sit down." I sit on the edge of the bed, and direct Sherlock to take a chair. "Mycroft gave you the facts of the case, yeah?"

**Sherlock**

My knees hit the back of the bed and I flop down on it. The only bed. "My Brother is a meddling twat." I wave off his question about the particulars of the case. "Jewels. Thieves. Yada yada. I may have actually been listening."

**Greg**

"So tomorrow, I will make arrangements to meet our suspect, talk to him, see if I can get a meeting to look at some of the gemstones." I lean against the headboard casually. "With any luck, we'll be able to wrap this up in just a couple of days, and we can use the rest of the time relaxing, yeah?"

**Sherlock**

"I'm going to take a shower." I strip most my clothes off as I walk to the shower. The shower itself is made of clear glass. The tub is a two-person soaker with jets. There's two sinks with a basket full of "sensual sensations." _I'm going to kill you, Brother Mine. Kill you dead._

**Greg**

I watch as Sherlock heads toward the shower, shedding clothing as he walks. _Definitely easy on the eyes_ I think to myself, trying to focus on anything but his form.

**Sherlock**

The water is refreshing and the soaps are more than adequate. I grab a towel on my way out of the bathroom to dry my hair and another one loosely wrapped low on my hips. "What's for dinner Gary?"

**Greg**

"Greg. Call me Greg. Please, Sherlock..." I roll my eyes. "I ordered their special - they should be bringing it up shortly."

**Sherlock**

"Yes, Dear." I find the remote for various amenities of the room. The first button I press makes a large tv appear out of the ceiling over the bed. The second button dims the lights. The third puts on soft music. All of these things are acceptable. Then I press the fourth button and all hell breaks loose. The TV starts playing porn, very loudly, room service rings the bell, and I startle bad enough that I drop the remote and my towel falls off. I put my hands over my ears. "Greg. Fix this." I open the door to room service just wide enough to grab the trolley before slamming it closed.

**Greg**

"Jesus, Sherlock..." I snatch the remote off the floor and turn off the TV. I fling the towel at him so he doesn't embarrass the poor room service kid any further (at least he had the sense to try to stay behind the door). I apologize profusely, tip the kid very well, and close the door. "Put on some trousers, Sherlock. I can't very well have dinner with you in the nude." (Well, I could, but it would be distracting...)

**Sherlock**

"Why not? It's not as if I need clothes so you can eat." I lift up the lids and find I have no problem with his selection of food. "I'm impressed."

**Greg**

"Actually, yes, Sherlock..." I cough. "I need you to put something on. You're a bit... distracting... otherwise."

**Sherlock**

My heart stops for a beat as I wonder if maybe my crush isn't as impossible as I've believed it to be.   _Don't be daft he didn't mean it that way_ I grab a robe from the closet before I lay down on the bed. The tv is still on but paused mid scene.

**Greg**

My face is turning redder by the second. "Um... can we turn that off?" I nod toward the TV. He grabs the remote and turns it off, thankfully. "So, they said their special tonight was filet mignon. Hope you don't mind..."

**Sherlock**

I had started to enter my Mind Palace before he spoke. "That's fine. Thank you." I need to sort through the new information that I am distracting to Greg.

**Greg**

I start on my meal as he sits quietly, deep in thought. "So... you didn't bring your violin, did you?" I ask between bites of my meal.

**Sherlock**

"Don't ask ridiculous questions. It's beneath you." Making no progress in defining distracting in my Mind Palace I try a different approach. I focus my attention on him looking for clues. Flushed, could equal embarrassment or he's too hot. Pulse high, could be arousal or annoyance. Avoiding eye contact, could be so many things. _Damn him_

**Greg**

"Too bad. I'd love to hear you play. I tried to learn it, when I was a kid. Was rubbish at it. I play a little guitar, though."

**Sherlock**

"I didn't know that." This conversation has nothing to do with work or the case or anything really. "Why tell me that?" I finally get up and put together a plate for dinner. I sit on the couch that he's on but with my feet tucked up on the cushion.

**Greg**

"Well, if we're posing as newlyweds, we ought to know at least a little about each other... so we can have conversations in public." I shrug. "Just trying to be friendly."

**Sherlock**

"Ok." I eat a few bites as I contemplate my questions. "Did you live in France?"

**Greg**

"I grew up outside of Paris. Mum was English, and when Dad died, we moved back to London to be closer to her family. I think I was about 12 when we went back." I nod, reaching for a glass of wine. "I go back every couple of years to visit family, though."

**Sherlock**

"You speak English remarkably well for a Frenchman. If we are to get to know each other is there any questions I can't ask?"

**Greg**

"Well, Mum always spoke English around me, so I learned it pretty well." I shrug. "I take it you don't speak any languages other than English?" I ask. "And no, I don't think there's anything you can ask me that I won't answer."

**Sherlock**

"I speak Latin, Mandarin, Dutch, and Spanish. Why did you finally leave your wife?"

**Greg**

I almost choke on my wine. "Well, she didn't have the same views on fidelity I have... meaning she was sleeping with half of London, while I waited for her at home. Didn't seem totally fair to me..."

**Sherlock**

I could have told him that years ago. "Since then you've doubled your work load and spend almost sixty hours a week at the Yard."

**Greg**

"Keeps me busy. No time to wallow in pity or guilt if I'm working." I finished off my wine and poured another. _My own damn fault for telling him I'd give him answers..._

**Sherlock**

I hold out my glass for more as well. "Have you been in a relationship since then? Having sex regularly?"

**Greg**

I look at him, wide-eyed. _Lestrade, you are an idiot..._ I empty my glass of wine in one long swallow. "No, Sherlock... I don't have the time. Deliberately."

**Sherlock**

"You are deliberately celibate. Interesting." _I knew he didn't mean distracting in a sexy way_ "That's enough. Thank you." I get up and disrobe before crawling into the bed.

**Greg**

My face feels hot. I must be an impressive shade of crimson by now. "Deliberately celibate does not mean I don't have an interest, Sherlock. Just means... well, it means I've been hurt enough hurt for a while."

**Sherlock**

"When will a while be done? Does it have to do with you being bi?"

**Greg**

"No, it doesn't have anything to do with that. Why would you think that? Because I was married to a woman for 10 years?" I snap at him.

**Sherlock**

"I don't understand your question. Why would I think you're bi? Or why do I wonder how long you will remain purposely single?" His snapping at me is nothing new or irregular.

**Greg**

I take a deep breath. "Why would you think the reason I'm not dating someone is because I'm bi? That's like me asking you if the reason you're not dating is because you're gay."

**Sherlock**

"That is the reason I'm not dating any one. As for asking you about being single I simply meant to inquire if there was homophobia at the Yard or if you were worried about it may look if you, a man who had been married to a woman for ten years, suddenly was in a relationship with a man." Maybe I've gone a bit too far in my questions. "I will put this subject as off limits. Now, are you coming?"

**Greg**

"Gimme a minute. I need a shower. And a drink." I get up and head to the bathroom, turning the taps as hot as I can stand them to wash off the travel. I let the water run over me, relaxing the knots in my shoulders, as I hum an old Sinatra song. When I finally feel like I can face him again, I turn off the water and dry off, slipping into the new pajamas I bought with Mycroft's credit card.

**Sherlock**

_Should I tell him I could hear him singing? stupid question. I'll save that info for later_  
My hand is over my eyes to block the light. "I got you that drink, it's on your nightstand." _On his nightstand. opposite mine. sounds good_

  
I open my eyes when he shuts off all the lights except for the lamp by the bed. _Is he intentionally trying to kill me?_ A long deep groan escapes me without my permission.

**Greg**

"Thanks..." I pick up the glass and take a long drink of whiskey. "I will say this about your brother - he's got excellent taste." I say, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

**Sherlock**

"Did my brother give you those? Eww. Your intentional celibacy makes more sense now." _Figures. I didn't think even he would stoop so low as to flaunt in my face that he got the only one I've wanted_ I roll to my side facing away from him.

**Greg**

"These?" I motion at the navy silk. "Nah - picked these out myself. I've always wanted silk pajamas. Can't really afford them on a DI's salary, though." I stretch out on the bed and look over at him. "I was referring to your brother's taste in alcohol. This is pretty damn good."

**Sherlock**

I roll back over and see him leaning against the headboard drinking the scotch. He's got his legs spread out and one knee bent as he runs the glass across his forehead to use the ice to cool down. "It was me." _Oh god I can see his erection. No. Worse. I can see he's only slightly erect and it's already huge_ I turn to lay on my back and look anywhere but at him.

**Greg**

"Yeah? Well, thanks, then." I glance over at him, biting my lip quietly as I look at those porcelain-white shoulders of his. "Your brother didn't send you out shopping, hm?"

**Sherlock**

"No. He took my card for expenditures saying I could survive without it." _Bastard_ "As for the scotch, I requested room service bring that brand and year while you were singing in the shower.

**Greg**

I blush furiously. "Sorry to have subjected you to my singing voice..." I mumble. "You know, I've still got the card he gave me... want me to take you shopping? You'd look stunning in silk..."  _you're hot now, but maybe silk would help..._

**Sherlock**

"Is that your way of fishing for compliments? I'm a bit not good at social cues. Even if it wasn't a hint I enjoyed it. It was better than Sinatra." It was much deeper. I was unaware til then how sexy his songs could be. "We will have to shop to look the part of middle-class newlyweds. Your wardrobe, while serviceable, serviceable does not say monied."

**Greg**

"Not fishin'... just not used to someone else being able to hear me sing and liking it. My ex hated my singing voice." I shrug. "I'll make you a deal, then: tomorrow we'll go shopping. You can buy me clothes. I will buy you pajamas." I finish my drink. "Because if we're going to share a bed, I need you to be a little less... tempting."

**Sherlock**

"Tempting? And pajamas will make me less so? Is that why you're wearing sleepwear?" I finally look at him, but he is no longer looking at me. Most likely he is inferring that anyone would be tempting by now and I happen to be the closest. Yes, that sounds right.

**Greg**

"I knew I would be likely sharing a bed with someone... Mycroft didn't tell me it'd be you, though. Thought whoever it was would be more comfortable if I wasn't nude." _I'm going to need another drink_ "Are you?"

**Sherlock**

I lean up in my elbow and grab his glass and take the last sip. "I'm not uncomfortable." I shake the glass a bit as I hand it back hoping he will go get more. "You are wearing navy which brings out the silver in your hair and the brown in your eyes. You are wearing silk which drapes over your body leaving your fit and form easy to notice. If you did not know it was going to be me, I must assume you were planning to seduce who ever your husband was to be."

**Greg**

"Seduce? Not really." I get up to refill my glass. "Like I said, I didn't know it would be you..."

**Sherlock**

"Yes, you made that clear." Hence you wore seductive clothing for whomever you were going to be sleeping with. "It's still too hot. I'm going to take another shower." I put on the robe tossed near the bed and grab his newly poured drink on my way to the shower.

**Greg**

I jump off the bed when he takes my drink. "Hey, that's not fair..." I mumble as I follow him.

**Sherlock**

"Life isn't fair Gavin." And there's no room for sentiment as you have reminded me. I turn the water on to a lukewarm temperature and step inside. I was greeted with a colder shower than expected. "Fuck!"

**Greg**

I chuckle. "While I can definitely appreciate the need for a cold shower right now," I lean against the sink smiling at him. "it doesn't sound like you were expecting one." The clear glass doors treat me to an excellent view of his arse.

**Sherlock**

His voice startles me since I wasn't expecting him to join me in the bathroom. "Is there a reason you followed me?" If he's going to watch I will give him a show. I take my time and stretch as I lather up.

**Greg**

I chuckle. “Well, first off, you stole my drink." I pick up the glass and take a sip. "You mind if I enjoy the view?"

**Sherlock**

Not expecting him to actually speak his words make me jump and I drop the loofa. I decide to leave it where it lay for now. Speaking of drinks, I grab the glass off the top shelf of the shower and finish it off.

**Greg**

"Sherlock..." my voice cracks a little. "Am I going to have to come in there and take my drink back?" _The liquor has loosened my tongue more than I thought_

**Sherlock**

I open the door and hand him an empty glass. "Get two this time."

**Greg**

I look at the empty glass, and set it on the sink. "No." I say quietly, unbuttoning my shirt.

**Sherlock**

"What do you mean, no? Why not?!" pfft. I notice the steam has fogged up the shower walls when I set the glass on the rug.

**Greg**

I slip off my shirt and set it on the shelf. "I mean, no, I'm not getting either of us another drink. I think we've had quite enough liquor for one night."

**Sherlock**

Pfft. "Fine. I'll get my own." I rinse off the soap and grab for a towel on the hanger.

**Greg**

I grab Sherlock's wrist as he reaches out for a towel.

**Sherlock**

"What are you doing?" I twist my wrist out of his hold. I cross my arms and stare at him as I stand there dripping on the floor.

**Greg**

"Just admiring the view."

**Sherlock**

I push against his naked chest to walk past him. "This view prefers to be the first choice and not a consolation prize."

**Greg**

"What makes you think you're a consolation prize?"

**Sherlock**

I roll my eyes. "Your very own words."

**Greg**

I shake my head. "If you're not interested, just say so. Sherlock..."

**Sherlock**

"I'm not going to play your game Geoffrey. I will not be your toy to play with til you have to go back to your real life." I walk past the liquor cabinet and straight to bed. "We have antiques to look at tomorrow and a wardrobe to get for you. It's late." I grab the top blanket and wrap it around myself before I go lay down on the couch with my back to the room.

**Greg**

"Sherlock..." I sigh as he storms out of the room. "Only a blind fool wouldn't want you..." I say under my breath to myself as I follow him to the sofa.  I reach over and rest a hand on his shoulder. "Sherlock, listen to me." I am speaking to the back of his head, because he's curled up on the sofa, bundled in the blankets. "I _am_ interested in you. I have _always_ been interested in you. Since I first met you. When I saw that Mycroft assigned me to this operation with you, well, I was surprised. I really didn't know it was going to be you. I was afraid I'd been set up with that woman from last time."

**Sherlock**

"Then why being the sexy pajamas?" I'm not speaking very loud but I know he can hear me.

**Greg**

"You think these are sexy? I bought them because I was spoiling myself on your brother's dime, and I wanted to be as covered-up as possible, if my partner was _her_ "

**Sherlock**

I look over my shoulder at him. "Do you mean Julia? She was horrendous. He didn't tell you you were going to have a husband?"

**Greg**

"Nope. I knew I was posing as a newlywed. That's all."

**Sherlock**

"You honestly don't think your pajamas are sexy?" I roll over to face him with my body and most my head still covered up.

**Greg**

"Honestly, no." I shrug. "I just like the feel of silk. Expensive tastes, I guess."

**Sherlock**

"Why?" I cough and speak up a bit louder. "Why me?"

**Greg**

"You really don't see it, do you? You're gorgeous. Yes, you are frustrating as hell, but you have a good heart underneath all the bluster."

**Sherlock**

"You're an idiot." I uncover my face a lot more. "Don't be an idiot."

**Greg**

"I am not, and you know it." I smile at him.

**Sherlock**

"Not a complete idiot. You do recognize the genius in working for me." Now that things are a bit more settled the fatigue of the day really starts to get to me. If his trying not to yawn is anything to go by it's obviously getting to him as well,

**Greg**

"Come to bed. I promise to behave myself." I hold out my hand to him.

**Sherlock**

"How is that supposed to induce me to go to the bed?" I get up anyways and walk to the bed with the blanket still around me.

**Greg**

"You look tired. Am I wrong?"

**Sherlock**

I lay down and unburrito from the blanket so it's now on top of me. "I had more sleep than you."

**Greg**

I climb into bed alongside him. "Then you can keep me awake."

**Sherlock**

"Doubtful." The clock on the nightstand reads 1:15am. I pull the blanket out from under him and put it over both of us. We lay there for a while, close but not touching. I tentatively reach my hand out and touch his arm.

**Greg**

I'm starting to doze when I feel his hand on my arm. I smile sleepily, and roll onto my side, draping my arm over Sherlock's warm body.


	6. Chapter 6

**Sherlock**

It takes me a moment to remember what had happened last night. The clock says 9:45am. That much sleep should get rid of any possible jet lag. I try to slowly pull myself out from under, and on top, of him. He is as much a cuddler as I am an octopus. This should make for some interesting nights. Once out of bed I start up the coffee and order us breakfast. He's still asleep when the food comes. _Should I wake him up or let him sleep?_ Boredom makes my decision for me. "Wake up." I poke his shoulder. "Greg. Up. Awake." He barely stirs.

**Greg**

I grumble. "Why?"

**Sherlock**

"Shopping. Food. Coffee. The case. Now up." I tug on the blanket.

**Greg**

"Stop that!" I yank back on the blankets. "I'll get up in a minute..." I pulled the covers back up over my head.

**Sherlock**

"Final warning." I tug on the blankets again.

**Greg**

I groan. "All right... all right... I'll get up... if you bring me coffee."

**Sherlock**

"It's already on the nightstand." I'm somewhat disappointed he is actually getting up now. "I've already mapped out the antique route we'll take and which clothing boutiques we will stop by. Now hurry up. We need to be at Alberee by 10:30 for your fitting."

**Greg**

A hand reaches out from under the blankets and grabs the coffee mug. "Been busy this morning, have you?"

**Sherlock**

"Yes. I've done a bit of looking around and I believe we will have to go to at least three shops before we get noticed." I choose not to tell him the number is closer to eight and at least two days. "However, before we do that, you need clothes and we need rings."

**Greg**

The caffeine must finally be hitting my brain. "Rings?" I didn't wear a ring when I was married before...

**Sherlock**

I make a sweeping gesture of the suite around us. "Wouldn't two men who booked the Luxury Honeymoon Suite be the same two men who want to flaunt their sickeningly sweet affection? We need to look the part." I rummage through his suitcase and find the only thing somewhat decent to wear here. Thankfully we are only going as far as a Men’s Store. "Up. Up. Up." I tug the blankets completely off before he has a chance to grab them.

**Greg**

"Fine, fine." I roll my eyes at him. "You're lucky you're pretty..." I swing my legs to the floor to stand and stretch.

**Sherlock**

"Yes. Yes. You too." I admire the view of his naked torso still taut with muscle. I make him up a plate with a bit of everything. "Hurry." As an afterthought I add please. "Hurry -please." I grab my own outfit on my way to wash up.

**Greg**

"Thanks, dear." I take the plate and have some food while I dress. When he comes out of the bathroom, I'm ready and waiting. "So where are we going first?"

**Sherlock**

"Market Square. Clothes first. Shoes. Maybe a haircut." I ruffle his hair a bit. "Maybe just a style." It takes us about 20 minutes to get to Alberee and the tailor is already there.

**Greg**

I nod at the young man in the tailor's shop. "Good morning!" I greet him in perfect French. "My husband here," I nod toward Sherlock, "wants me to dress a bit more fashionably. I understand you can help?"

"Of course, sir!" The tailor got to work, efficiently taking measurements and selecting clothing for me. 

"An improvement, dear?" I show Sherlock the new outfit we've selected.

**Sherlock**

"That's good. Now we just need to pick out five more." The two hours we were there went by quickly. We left with a decent ensemble to be delivered to the hotel and a recommendation for a stylist. "Ready to get a manicure, Husband Mine?"

**Greg**

I try to hide my grimace with a smile. "Ready as I'll ever be, I suppose." I follow him out of the tailor shop to the next location.

**Sherlock**

I keep sneaking glances at him while the stylist works on his hair and he's getting a pedicure. "I didn't expect you to be ticklish."

**Greg**

I bite the inside of my cheek, trying not to giggle as the young woman files my toenails. "You'd better appreciate this." I grumble at him.

**Sherlock**

I smile at him. "I do. Thank you." The awww sounds from the employees make me blush a bit.

**Greg**

We head toward the first of the antique shops, Sherlock dutifully holding my hand and blushing like a newlywed. "So what are we in the market for, anyhow?"

**Sherlock**

I tug him towards a touristy shop right along the main street. "Nothing here. You look disappointed and I'll complain about it not being good enough." As we walk in I can tell neither of us will need to act.

**Greg**

I follow Sherlock's lead in the next couple of shops, not finding anything of interest. We walk off the main road to a small shop on a side street, and Sherlock squeezes my hand.

**Sherlock**

We stop for lunch at a cafe slightly off the beaten path. "That's enough crap sifting for today."

**Greg**

"Reached your limit on antiques, hm?" I grin as I sip a bottle of water. "I find I rather enjoy it, to be honest. There are worse ways to spend an afternoon."

**Sherlock**

I sip at the Island Ice tea the waiter brought with our tapas. "We have free time until tomorrow. What would you like to do?"

**Greg**

"I wouldn't mind a bit of beach time. I hear Martinique has some nice black sand beaches on the north end of the island."

**Sherlock**

"It's a good thing we got you some swimwear." He will look perfect in those. What did the salesman call them? Ah. Booty Shorts. "I burn too easily so I'll just watch."

**Greg**

"You're the only person I know who could spend two weeks on a tropical island and not even get near the water." I sigh. "I suppose I should count myself lucky that you're going to the beach at all."

**Sherlock**

I nod at him. "Yes, you really should." I put a piece of something rolled into a grape leaf on his plate. "Try that."

**Greg**

I look at my plate curiously, poking at the rolled thing with my fork. "What is it??"

**Sherlock**

I shrug and move it closer to him. "Just a tiny bite."

**Greg**

"Nu-uh. What is it?"

**Sherlock**

"I don't know. Which is why you need to try it." I have made him a small plate of everything for him to try next. I get the waiters attention for another round of Teas on his way back.

**Greg**

"No sense of adventure, I swear." Last time I ate something without a full identification first, Donovan didn't stop giggling at me for a week. "You're gonna try some of these first, you know."

**Sherlock**

"No. I don't. It's one of the many joys of being married to a daring D.I."

**Greg**

I glare at him playfully. "Tell me again why I put up with you?"

**Sherlock**

"I'm smart, pretty, and distracting." I pick up a small puff thing and bring it to his lips.

**Greg**

I curl my tongue around the puff pastry and pull it into my mouth along with his fingers.

**Sherlock**

I pull my fingers out and replace them with my lips. "Delicious."

**Greg**

I blush. "That doesn't count as tasting, you know."

**Sherlock**

"Why not?" I lick the bit of flavor left on my lips.

**Greg**

I hold one of the puffs up to his lips. "Trust me."

**Sherlock**

He didn't react badly so this should be ok. I open my mouth for him to put it in.

**Greg**

I pop the puff into his open mouth. "Not bad?"

**Sherlock**

"Better the other way." I pick up the dark purple grape? thing and go to plop it in his mouth.

**Greg**

I frown at the grape leaf roll. "Looks like lawn clippings."

**Sherlock**

I drop it on the plate it came on. "Looks like something that should have been left on the lawn where it was." I grab a deep fried something, could be pickle, and hold it up.

**Greg**

"Well, if it's been breaded and fried, how bad could it be?" I lean over and bite off half the fried thing.

**Sherlock**

It was a pickle. Who would do such a thing?! I move the plate with those to the side after I drop the remains onto it.

**Greg**

"No, no. If I try it, you have to." I pluck up the half-pickle from the plate and stick it in his mouth when he opens it to protest.

**Sherlock**

I shake my head and keep my mouth closed. "I'd rather eat the dog droppings." As he goes to grab one I quickly change my mind and eat what's left of the nasty pickle and drink almost half the tea I have left.

**Greg**

I pick up a piece of grilled meat with my fork and hold it to his lips. "Here, take a bite.  The waiter said it's called Lambis."

**Sherlock**

I close my eyes and hold my breath as he puts it in my mouth. It's actually decent. "It's edible."

**Greg**

I take a bite as well. "Interesting. Not bad, though."

**Sherlock**

There are two plates left. The one I choose is meat chunks covered in a weird green sauce. "Here you go my dear."

**Greg**

I sniff at the sauce, then take a bite.  "That's.... different. What do you think of it?"

**Sherlock**

I discreetly spit it out into my napkin. "I think I will choose the food next time."

**Greg**

"Not going to try the fried plantains, then?" I reach for the last plate.

**Sherlock**

I grab one and eat it quickly. "Bananas are not my fruit of choice. Why do they fry everything?"

**Greg**

"Not bananas. Plantains. And most things are good fried.  So, let's go back to the hotel, get our swim suits, then hit the beach.

**Sherlock**

He pays for our meal and we head back to the hotel. "Did you notice anything interesting at the shops today? Anything unusual?"

**Greg**

"Seemed like typical shops to me. What'd I miss?"

**Sherlock**

"Think for a moment. Don't just see. Observe."

**Greg**

"Well, at that last shop, the gal behind the counter was awfully quiet. Most of the others, the people there couldn't stop talking, I swear." I think for a moment. "And I don't think I saw any paintings today, which is pretty weird."

**Sherlock**

"Good job! I didn't even notice the lack of paintings." I toss him his swim shorts and grab my own from the pile of new clothes. "For a former French sea town, they didn't have many naval artifacts and only a few French antiques."

**Greg**

I catch the shorts and quickly change, tossing my clothes onto the chair. I grab a couple of towels. "There's a nice beach about a block away - let's just walk."

**Sherlock**

I'm surprised that he said nothing about the booty shorts. I grab the bag with water and sun screen and we head out. "I think the last woman was paying more attention than the other shop keepers. We should go back there tomorrow."

**Greg**

"Sure, fine..." I mumble as I follow him out. Once we're on the street, I take his hand and pull him toward the beach I mentioned.


	7. Chapter 7

**Sherlock**

Along the way we see another kitschy tourist shop but this one if full of souvenirs. "How do you feel about getting my brother some gifts?" There's a booth where we can take our picture, and have it put on a hat or mug or any number of objects.

**Greg**

"I think that's a terrible idea. Let's do it." I grin at him.  After several minutes deliberation, we've purchased a coffee mug and t-shirt with our smiling faces on it for Mycroft. "He's going to hate these, you know."

**Sherlock**

I rub my hands together. "Yes. Very much so. I'll give them to him at Christmas, so Mum will ask about them whenever she visits." I almost bought him the pants, but I couldn't stop thinking what if he actually wore them. Eww.

**Greg**

"Come on" I pull him out of the shop. "I've got a date with sun and sand."

**Sherlock**

He puts a floppy hat on me and we head to the beach.

**Greg**

The beach is fairly quiet, with just a few other people set up on the sand. I march Sherlock over to the far end of the beach, away from them, and find a nice spot to lay out my towel... right next to a shady spot for him to sit, since I wouldn't want him burnt to a crisp. "Put sun screen on my back?" I ask.

**Sherlock**

I put a glob in my palm when he sits in front of me. I take my time rubbing it in with long strokes. "Turn around."

**Greg**

"Your hands are really nice, dear... remind me to get a full body massage from you sometime." I say as I turn around.

**Sherlock**

I brush my thumbs across his collar bone then work the lotion down his abs and back up his chest. I give him a gentle kiss with my hands on his face to complete the application. "You'll have to show me how to do it first."

**Greg**

"I would be happy to. Let's get some sunscreen on you, now..." I pour some into my hands and motion for him to turn around.

**Sherlock**

Instead of turning around I lay down on the towel he spread out for me. I am about eye level to his crotch and I'm thinking these shorts leave little to the imagination.

**Greg**

"Eyes are up here, darlin'..." I grin at him, and his eyes snap up to my face. "Now I know why you picked these trunks for me..."

**Sherlock**

"I have no idea what you mean." I smile at him at him and turn over. "I didn't hear any complaints."

**Greg**

"No complaints from me." I adjust things a bit. "I'm glad you like them.”

**Sherlock**

"I was prepared with a whole speech and list of reasons you should wear them." I bring him down for a quick kiss. "Now go make all the wives jealous of me."

**Greg**

"If they've seen you, they already are." I kiss him again, then lay back on my towel to enjoy the sun.

**Sherlock**

"What happened to swimming?" I stretch then lay my head on my folded arms. "I was planning on enjoying the view you promised."

**Greg**

After an hour in the sun, I quietly get up and head for the water.

**Sherlock**

I wake up from a short nap and the sun has moved a bit taking me out of the shade. A quick search for Greg and I see him playing with one of the stray dogs.

**Greg**

I see Sherlock stir, and take one last dip, the stray chasing me along the water's edge. Dripping wet, I walk to stand over Sherlock.

**Sherlock**

I yelp when both the dog and the fox drench me by shaking their wet selves right next to me. "You'll pay for that Lestrade."

**Greg**

"Promises, promises. You should go for a swim. Water's beautiful."

**Sherlock**

"It would not be a pleasurable punishment. I'm sure you can find a way to make it up to me." His skin is a warm tan color. I want to lick the water dripping from his hair as it drops to his shoulder and runs down his torso. "You stink and need a shower."

**Greg**

I flop onto his towel, straddling his waist, with a mischievous grin.

**Sherlock**

"Get off me you heathen." I try to flip over or push him off me, but it doesn't work.

**Greg**

I grab his wrists and pin them to the sand. "Make me." I lean in close and kiss him.

**Sherlock**

Blehck bleh yuck The damned dog licked my face and pranced around us like a kid in a candy store. "If you don't unhand me now..." _what will I do?_ "you'll be sleeping with that mutt tonight."

**Greg**

"I think he's kinda cute." I grin at him. "But I'd rather sleep with you." I let go of his wrists.

**Sherlock**

I turn to my back and he settles back into place. "This does not mean you're forgiven." The Evening breeze has blown in and the fairy lights from the outdoors bars are coming on.

**Greg**

I settle with my thighs straddling his hips suggestively. "And just how can I earn forgiveness?"

**Sherlock**

"Beg. Grovel. Plead. At the very least let me up so I can get the dog slobber off me." I lift my head up and wipe the cheek where the dog got me on his arm. "A drink would help."

**Greg**

"I don't plan to be the one begging tonight, _dear_ "

**Sherlock**

"Plans change, shmookims."

**Greg**

I sigh heavily, then climb off him. "You really are no fun to play with..." I grab my towel, shaking the sand well away from him, and draping it over my shoulders.

**Sherlock**

"I'm no fun? Huh." I grab the towel and wipe down my sandy chest. "Maybe I'm providing you with a challenge, old man." I cock a grin at him and wait for him to take the bait.

**Greg**

"Old? Hmrph. Maybe I can teach you something...."

**Sherlock**

"Or maybe I can show you how things have improved." I reach out my hand for him to help me up. I turn my back towards him briefly. "How bad is it? I got more Sun than planned. Please tell me there's no freckles."

**Greg**

I run my fingers along his back. "Only a few."

**Sherlock**

"Dammit." I grab our belongings and we head back towards the hotel. "How does a shower and drinks sound to you? Got to look the part of newlyweds and what better way than on Mycroft's dime."

**Greg**

"A shower and room service sounds better."

**Sherlock**

I run my hand down his shoulder. "A shower then drinks out. Return for a bath and room service."

**Greg**

"Shower together?" I ask hopefully

**Sherlock**

"What better way for you to start to make it up to me?"

**Greg**

I grin and take his hand as we walk back to the hotel

**Sherlock**

Once we get back I head straight for the shower. "Order food then come join me."

**Greg**

"Accustomed to giving orders?" I mumble, calling downstairs to have dinner delivered in an hour. I step into the bathroom to find him already in the shower, steam already filling the room. I slip out of my wet trunks, hanging them on the bar, and step into the shower behind him.

**Sherlock**

"Maybe, if you let me on to a crime scene or few, I would limit my commands." He grabs the loofa and turns me around to face him and put him under the water.

**Greg**

"Maybe I like being given orders... under the right circumstances, of course."

**Sherlock**

“What are the right circumstances?" I get a glint in my eyes as I consider all the things I want to tell him to do. "Mmm. As good as that sounds let's get clean before we get dirty."

**Greg**

I lather up the loofa with some shower gel and start lathering him up with it.  "The right circumstances? Wait and see."

**Sherlock**

"I want to know now. Tell me." _might as well find out if now qualifies as the right circumstances_  For a moment I am lost in visual of him going to his knees right now and sucking me off as I run my hands through his silver and brown hair.

**Greg**

I smile up at him. "No."

**Sherlock**

I turn around after he finishes my chest. "Would you give me a clue? Please?"

**Greg**

I lather up his shoulders and work my way down his back, rubbing my hands appreciatively over his hips. "I take orders well... just not publicly..." I growl against his smooth shoulder blade.

**Sherlock**

I put my hands on the back shower wall and spread my feet apart a bit. "So if I promise to be polite at crime scenes...?"

**Greg**

"You? Polite at crime scenes? I'll believe that when I see it." I chuckle, running my hands down his butt and thighs.

**Sherlock**

"Let me show you. I can be good when the prize it worth it." My focus starts to drift the closer he gets to my cock. "Very very good."

**Greg**

"I'll settle for you remembering my name." My soapy hand slides between his arse cheeks.

**Sherlock**

"I can do that Gavin. Or is it Graham?"

**Greg**

I frown at him playfully. "Really, William?"

**Sherlock**

I put my head back and shiver when he calls me William. "Gregory."

**Greg**

"Thank you." I nuzzle against his back, my slick hands circling around to the front of his hips as I press my erection up against his arse.

**Sherlock**

"Don't get used to it." I squeeze my arse as his soapy penis slides between my cheeks.

**Greg**

I bite my lip as he squeezes me. "Well, if you don't like this, then forget my name." I let one hand stroke over his hip, sliding around the base of his cock.

**Sherlock**

"If you would quit changing your name it would be easier to remember." I push my hips back into his pelvis. "I promise to not forget your name in private if I can still call you what I want in public."

**Greg**

"In public, I'm Detective Inspector Lestrade to you." I stroke him with a soap-slicked hand. "In private, well, Greg is a good start."

**Sherlock**

"And what do I get in return Detective Inspector?" I bite my bottom lip and reach a hand behind me to pull him closer. "What do I get for following all these rules of yours?"

**Greg**

"How about I fuck you senseless?"

**Sherlock**

"You'll do that anyway." I turn around so we are looking at each other.

**Greg**

My lips dance over his chest. "True. So what do you want?"

**Sherlock**

I smirk at his open question. "What are you willing to give?"

**Greg**

I push Sherlock up against the wall with a growl and kiss him, soft and slow, my body pressed up against his.

**Sherlock**

I hear the buzz of room service. "Damn them for being early. I hope whatever you ordered is good cold." I regretfully step out of the shower. "Get the bath ready." I grab a towel and go to the door.

**Greg**

I watch him as he walks seductively away, draping the towel around his hips just as he moves out of sight. I turn off the shower and step out to start the tub filling. By the time gotten room service settled, I've stretched out in the tub.


	8. Chapter 8

**Sherlock**

I come back with a tray of fresh fruit, leaving the rest. The water has barely filled enough to cover his legs and the suds are hiding the base of an impressive erection.

**Greg**

"Care to join me?" I smile up at him as he sets the tray by the bath. I bend my legs and spread my thighs, so he can settle himself against my chest.

**Sherlock**

Even though the tub is quite long my feet still end up having to be propped up on the edge. "We should switch."

**Greg**

"I suppose," I frown playfully, but scoot forward in the tub so he can settle in behind me. Once he's comfortable, I scoot back and lean against him.

**Sherlock**

"Much better. Thank you." I grab a slice of orange from the tray and bring it to his lips. I also notice I am now closer to the controls which are right next to my head.

**Greg**

I reach up and snatch the orange slice from his fingers, resting the back of my head on his shoulder.

**Sherlock**

I tug his hair a bit to get him to look up at me, so I can kiss the juice off his lips. It feels awkward to be at this angle. All these new experiences are quite pleasing and different than what I imagined it to be.

**Greg**

I growl at him a bit when he pulls my hair. "Keep that up, and you'll give me ideas." I grin as he kisses me.

**Sherlock**

"What types of ideas?" I pop a piece of honeydew in my mouth. "I doubt I'd see them as a bad thing."

**Greg**

"Didn't say they were bad ideas... just ideas." I lean up and nip his earlobe.

**Sherlock**

A weird sort of laugh escapes me. Did I just giggle?! No! I grab a piece of melon and put it on his chest above the water. I slide it up then across his collarbone. I mean to bring it up his neck to his jaw line but I drop it when he jerks at the touch of that spot below his ear. "Ticklish? That gives me a few ideas of my own."

**Greg**

He _giggled_? I gotta say, I like it... I take his empty hand and kiss the knuckles softly. My hand over his, I press his soft palm against my chest and move our hands down my abdomen with a pleased sound.

**Sherlock**

I can feel a rumble in my chest from the beautiful noise he made. I let him guide me down to his cock and stroke the tips of my fingers along the top from base to tip. "Theoretically I know some men are well endowed but you..." oh wow. He's at least 23cm and he isn't fully hard yet. I've had no reason to ever be embarrassed of my own 17cm but then again no one but me has seen it since I've reached adult hood.

**Greg**

His fingertips ghosting over my cock make me shiver. "Theoretically?" I ask. "As in, you've never..." my sentence is interrupted by his gentle grasp around my rapidly-hardening dick.

**Sherlock**

"Whatever it is you're going to say, don't say it. What I've done or haven't done is not important. What is important is what I plan to do tonight." To distract him even more I nuzzle into his neck and start sucking little bruises.

**Greg**

I growl a bit as he starts nibbling behind my ear. "Sherlock..." I warn him playfully as I push back against him, feeling his erection against the small of my back.

**Sherlock**

I can't help but smile into his neck. "Gregory..."

**Greg**

"You don't know what that does to me," I squirm against him. "Don't start anything you don't intend to finish..."

**Sherlock**

I grab an orange slice off the tray. "Nuzzling your neck or talking about later tonight?" I squeeze the juice onto his shoulder before I lick it off.

**Greg**

"Both." I shiver as the cool juice hits my shoulder, and his warm tongue licks over it. His fingers continue to stroke over my cock, tantalizingly softly.

**Sherlock**

I make a loose fist around his dick and go back and forth on the shaft a few times then let it go. "We have plenty of time." I grab a flannel and wipe down his chest from the juice. "Or we -could- be done with the bath now..."

**Greg**

"Now is better..." I sit up in the tub and reach for the side, getting to my feet. I step out of the tub and reach my hand toward him.

**Sherlock**

As he gets out I press all the buttons quickly to see what they do. I may have been sidetracked for a moment.

**Greg**

I chuckle as he turns on the whirlpool jets in the tub. I grab his wrist and pull him up. "I will be much more fun to play with, you know." I put my arm around his waist.

**Sherlock**

"Prove it." There's a glint in his eyes I've not seen before. "Of course only if you're -up- for it. Old Man." I toss the towel at him and make a run for the bed.

**Greg**

I stalk after him, still dripping from the bath. I walk up to the bed and climb onto him. "I'm up for anything, _dear_." I purr against his neck, as I straddle him and wrap my hand around both our cocks.

**Sherlock**

"Oh fuck!" My back almost arches enough to buck him off. "Wow. Do that it again."

**Greg**

"Is that really all you want?" I give us another stroke, then start inching my way down his chest, licking and kissing his damp skin.

**Sherlock**

"Oh gods no! But it’s a damn good place to start." My hand just naturally grabs his hair as he descends down my body. His silver streaked brown hair feels lush between my fingers.

**Greg**

My stubbled cheek brushes against his cock, and I look up at him with a grin.

**Sherlock**

"Didn't take you for a tease, Sergeant." I grab the pillow and shove it behind my head so I can better watch what he's doing. "Go on."

**Greg**

"Now, that's not nice at all..." I growl. "Certainly not the best way to get what you want..."

**Sherlock**

"What is the best way then, -Inspector- Lestrade?" My confidence is starting to slip a little as I wonder if I went too and in what way and maybe I've killed the mood and it's possible he's no longer interested and doesn't want to let me down since I stupidly told him I am a virgin.

**Greg**

I kiss his inner thigh. "You just lie back and relax." I smooth my hand up his stomach. "I will take care of everything." I run my tongue up the length of his shaft.

**Sherlock**

"Sir, yes Sir." My breathing is stuttered and my mind seems to be lagging. "That mouth. Wow. So good. Hot." It's not til I can feel him smile that I realize I was talking out loud. "Sorry. I'll shut up."

**Greg**

"I like hearing what you like... it'll keep me from doing things you don't like." I smile up at him. I take him into my mouth, my tongue working over the smooth skin as I suck.

**Sherlock**

My breathing comes to a stop. _Is all sex like this? Or is all sex like this with him?_ " I like it all. Everything." There's so many things I want to try that my brain starts to race with thought. I'm quickly brought back to the present when he adds a sucking effect. "Fuck! Oh dear gods that's good."

**Greg**

I wrap my hand around his cock and stroke him, returning to softly licking his head.

**Sherlock**

"When do you start blowing?"

**Greg**

I chuckle. Licking a stripe up his cock, I then breathe softly on the wet skin. "Better?"

**Sherlock**

The cold is very unpleasant. "No. Worse. Bad. Go back to the sucky licky thingy." Later I will ask why it's called a blow job when sucking feels so much better.

**Greg**

I shake my head, trying not to laugh. I take him back into my mouth, bobbing my head and sucking while stroking what I don't have in my mouth. I rest my free hand on his hip, to keep him still.

**Sherlock**

I know I should stay down but my body jerks up on its own will. "My brain. It's not working right. Sorry." I grab onto the sheets and by sheer force of will stay completely still.

**Greg**

I let him slip out of my mouth and look up at him. "Stop thinking. Stop analyzing. Just relax." I smile. I shift my position, resting between his parted thighs for a moment, then return my attention to his cock, taking him in until he hits the back of my throat.

**Sherlock**

Thankfully both his hands were holding my hips down when he took me all the way down or I would've choked him when my body attempted to levitate off the bed. "Ungfdamn."

**Greg**

I bob my head, letting him hit the back of my throat on every downstroke, while my hands drift from his hip bones down to his inner thighs.

**Sherlock**

My legs spread open as my body starts to melt into the bed and his mouth does wicked wonderful things.

**Greg**

I continue working him with my mouth, my tongue curling around his shaft. By the sounds he's making, I can only assume I'm doing this right for him. I drag my fingers up his inner thigh and over his balls.

**Sherlock**

I can feel the tightening in my abs and the onrush of heat. I tug in Greg's hair in warning. "Close. Gregory. Too close."

**Greg**

My fingers slip behind his balls, cupping them in my hand, and my fingertips pressing against his perineum, as I take just a little bit further, swallowing around his cock.

**Sherlock**

There is coming: a) due to happen or just beginning, b) likely to be important or successful in the future, c) on arrival or approach, etc. Then there is cumming: getting one’s brain sucked out of their dick by DI Gregory Lestrade. My body clenched down tightly, and I moan loudly as I ejaculate with another person for the first time.

**Greg**

I try to still his movements with one hand on his hip as he arches and cums down my throat. The sounds he's making make my cock ache for attention. I manage to swallow it all, then gently back off, my hands stroking his thighs softly.

**Sherlock**

I squirm a bit because his touch is so light, too light, so light it tickles. "Oh. Sensitive. Stop." I pat the spot beside me on the bed. "Gimme a moment."

**Greg**

I chuckle lightly and kiss his hipbone as I curl up beside him, my hand stroking his chest. "Good?" I nuzzle against his neck.

**Sherlock**

"You need to ask?" I pat him haphazardly. "Do I get the flannel or you? Or the water? Am I supposed to say thank you...? I will. Thank you. What's next?"

**Greg**

"You don't have to thank me - it was as much for me as for you." I kiss just behind his ear. "I just don't want to move too fast for you."

**Sherlock**

"Mmmhmm. Ok..." What he said then registers in my brain. "Wait. No. Not ok. I've waited twenty-five years. That's slow enough."

**Greg**

"Well, hopefully it's been worth waiting for so far... it only gets better, you know."  I nuzzle against his neck.


	9. Chapter 9

**Sherlock**

"You've done a more than adequate job." I turn so he can see my smile and tell I'm joking. Mostly. Kinda. "It was wonderful. Thank you." My energy restored I jump from the bed and grab a wet flannel and two bottles of water before I bounce back on to the bed. "What's next??"

**Greg**

"I can think of several things I'd like to do... what do YOU want, love?"

**Sherlock**

"Everything. All of it. Whatever comes next. Pun not intended." I'm still bouncing on the bed a bit making is hard for him to drink his water.

**Greg**

I take a long drink of water then set it on the bedstand. Putting my arms around him, I make him stop bouncing around like an excited teenage girl. "First, you have to calm down a bit." I push him onto his back against the pillows. I grind against his hip.

**Sherlock**

"This is not calming me down."

**Greg**

"Lie back... relax... let me do all the work, hm?" I stroke my fingers down his pale skin, caressing his hip before venturing between his thighs again. "I want you, Sherlock... so much..." I purr in his ear as my neglected cock rubs against him deliciously. I can remember my own first time with a man, and I have always promised myself I wouldn't make the same mistakes with someone else. I stop for a moment and reach over to the bedstand drawer for the small bottle of lube I keep there.

**Sherlock**

"Sexy pjs and lube?" I raise an eye at him. "Are you sure you weren't planning on seducing whoever your spouse turned out to be?" _Maybe.... No!_ The doubts from earlier try to return but I push them away.

**Greg**

"I told you, the silk PJs I bought for me. The lube... well... you can be alone and use lube. You've been missing out if you haven't..." I pop open the bottle and pour some in my hand, slicking up my fingers, which return to between his thighs, brushing lower. He tenses up when my fingers touch his arsehole. "Yes or no?"

**Sherlock**

I jump at the first touch of the cold gel. "Ugh. Can't you be more specific?" I roll my eyes. "Yes to continue and no to stop. And of course I've used lube before..." How often is none of his concern.

**Greg**

"Yes to continue, then. I just want to make this good for you." I kiss along his collar bone softly as I nudge one fingertip into him. "You have to tell me what you need, what you want."

**Sherlock**

"I want whatever you're willing to give me." I grab his hair and tug so he's looking at me. "I -need- your dick in my arse."

**Greg**

I chuckle a bit nervously. "Do you, now? Well, it just so happens I was planning that. I just don't want to hurt you."

**Sherlock**

"I've done enough research to know it’s going to hurt a bit even with an average-sized partner. It's a safe assumption it will hurt a bit more with you." I wiggle my hips and arse. "Good thing for you I like a bit of pain."

**Greg**

"Reading about it is nothing like firsthand experience, Sherlock... trust me, I know." I slide my finger in and out a bit more, pressing and stretching him before adding a second finger.

**Sherlock**

"Keep going. I'm ready for more." I grit my teeth a bit but there's none of the pain I was prepared for. Discomfort...? Yes. Pain...? Not really. "Why do you say it like that? What happened to you?"

**Greg**

"Later," I say roughly, nuzzling behind his ear as I curl my fingers against his prostate.

**Sherlock**

I grab hold of his arm to stop him. "No. Tell me now." In the years I've known him I've only seen Lestrade this upset with a homicide involving a child or pet. "Share with me."

**Greg**

"Later, I promise. Got other things on my mind right now." I nip his shoulder hard, which seems to derail his train of thought for the moment. I add a third finger (and more lube) stroking his prostate relentlessly. He arches and squirms against me.

**Sherlock**

He's deeper than my fingers can do but nowhere near where my favorite toy can reach. "Mmm more. M'ready." I grab tighter to his hair as I arch my head back. "Good. Very good. Is it always this good? This slow?"

**Greg**

"Some things are better slow." I smile at him, shifting so I'm kneeling between his thighs. For good measure, I add a fourth finger, stretching him out just a bit more, while I slick up my cock for him.

**Sherlock**

I bend my knees and open my legs as wide as possible. I tuck one of the smaller pillows under my hips before I lean up and put my hands on the side of his jaw. As we kiss I bring him down with me. "I said I'm ready Gregory. Trust me."

**Greg**

He almost whimpers when I pull my fingers away. "Tell me to stop if it's too much" I murmur against his lips as I line up my cock and start to press into him slowly. _Dear God, he's tight,_ I shudder.

**Sherlock**

"Fuck!" I shout and arch my back as the head of his cock pops into me. It's a delicious torture with how slow he's going. My nails rake along his back as I try to encourage him to go faster. "Dammit Gregory I'm not going to break. I may be a virgin but I have toys as big as you."

**Greg**

"Ever think..." I gasp against his shoulder. "... that maybe slow is good for me, too? Or do you  want this over with quickly?"

**Sherlock**

"Why would it be over quickly?  I don't understand."

**Greg**

Our hips meet, and I take a moment to breathe again. I kiss and nip my way up his neck, finally reaching his lips for a rough kiss as I pull back a little and thrust against him.

**Sherlock**

"Yes. That. Wow." My brain stops working and all I can do is feel. His hot breath on my cheek, the throb of his penis inside me, the power he's holding back, the muscles flexing in his arse when I reach down to grab it and pull him even closer than possible. I don't even know if I'm thinking or saying his name over and over again out loud.

**Greg**

I try to concentrate on his mumbling - some of it incoherent, but my name thrown in on occasion - in a desperate effort to keep from cumming too quickly, but I am starting to lose that control, moving harder and faster in him.

**Sherlock**

I grab the back of my knees and pull them almost to my shoulders. "That. There. Yes. Gregory." One of his hands grabs my leg where my hand is so I let go to grab the lube and start stroking myself with his hard pounding rhythm.

**Greg**

I am rapidly reaching my breaking point, and seeing Sherlock stroking himself pushes me right over the edge. I dig my fingers into his hip and cry out, thrusting hard and deep as I cum.

**Sherlock**

I feel a weird gushing heat enter me at the same time Greg's body tightens then loosens. His animalistic growl and the bruising pain of his nails on my hips pushing me over for the second time tonight.  I cum all over my abs which Greg then smears when he lays on top of me. "Is it always like this?"

**Greg**

I take a moment to catch my breath. "I don't know about always, but that was fucking fantastic." I chuckle lightly as I rest my head against his shoulder.

**Sherlock**

I wiggle a bit as the fluid on my stomach and the sweat starts to dry. There's also the uniquely different sensation of Gregory’s cum in my ass as it cools. "Is it always messy?" Unconsciously I pet his silver streaked brown hair. "We need rings."

**Greg**

I roll off him and flop onto my back beside him, thoroughly relaxed at this point. "Yeah, I guess it is. Care to join me in the shower?" I sit up and look down at him, running a finger along his jawline.

**Sherlock**

"Can't I get clean and stay right here?" I know I'm pouting but I'm comfy and tired.

**Greg**

"Easier and quicker in the shower. C'mon."I get up and pull him to his feet, leading him to the bathroom. In no time, the room is full of steam and we're both standing under the spray, kissing lazily.

**Sherlock**

We clean off quickly then slip back on to the bed. I pull him on to me as I lay on my back. "It's later. What happened?" His body tenses. "You don't have to tell me. Just know you can if you want." I kiss his forehead and lay in the silence.

**Greg**

I close my eyes and lean against him. "I was more concerned with your pleasure. My first time... he was more concerned with his own." I reply quietly, my fingers drawing lazy circles on his chest.

**Sherlock**

"What was his name?"

**Greg**

"Does it matter?"

**Sherlock**

"He would be lucky simply to be deported. I imagine I could come up with more entertaining ways of making him regret his selfishness." I continue to pet his hair even as I stifle a yawn.

**Greg**

I can't help but giggle. "Yeah, that might be a good bit of revenge. But, it was a long time ago. I remember how pleased I was to hear he'd been arrested several years later."

**Sherlock**

"If you change your mind... All I need is a name." I try to remove any insecurity from my voice when I ask him if I, too, was being selfish and worried only about myself. "I want you to have liked it too." Thankfully in this position he can't look directly at me.

**Greg**

"Mmhmm, very much. And you're ok?"

**Sherlock**

"Mmhmm. Very much." After another yawn I decide to give into my transports demands for sleep. "You're not a cuddler are you? I don't move around much so I'll probably stay to my side."

**Greg**

"Unfortunately, you might be stuck with cuddling. I like your skin against mine... even better than those silk pajamas you love so much." I grin as my eyelids start to get heavy. "We'll be back on the case in the morning, yeah?"

**Sherlock**

"You will never wear those pajamas for anyone but me." I turn so my back is to him and he scoots up to me. "If you get to be too warm don't be surprised to wake up on the floor."

**Greg**

I kiss the back of his neck. "Goodnight, Sherlock."  I say with an auditory smirk.

**Sherlock**

"Sleep well Gavin."

**Greg**

I pinch his plump arse. "Stop that.  Or I'm going to start calling you William"

**Sherlock**

"Ouch. Didn't realize you were so testy about your name."

**Greg**

"I'll put up with it at home, but not here... not privately."

**Sherlock**

A pleasant shudder runs through me at him saying my first name in that authoritative tone of his. "Do you know it only takes the average 25-year-old male about 15 minutes to be able to become erect after back to back ejaculation?" I wonder what the average 35-year-old male would be. Would size matter? Or diet? He does eat a lot of takeaway. Maybe a few experiments are in order. "Yes, Dear."

**Greg**

"Oi. Go to sleep, Sherlock. I'm going to need some rest, too, if I'm going to keep up with you." I drape my arm around his waist and close my eyes.


	10. Chapter 10

(Next morning)

**Greg**

The Caribbean sun comes streaming through the window, and I find myself nearly completely trapped by _someone's_ long limbs.

**Sherlock**

Half in and out of sleep I try to shift the pillows a bit to make myself more comfortable. For some reason the pillows are soft and warm and smell delightful.

**Greg**

"Mmmph. Get your bony self off me, Sherlock!" I give him a shove, trying to free myself.

**Sherlock**

I grumble and grab my pillow harder. 'Stop fighting.' The pillow pushes me so I lay on top of it.

**Greg**

I grab his earlobe between my teeth. "Get off of me, or you might never get off _with_ me again."

**Sherlock**

My eyes snap open and I see an angry not-pillow DI glaring at me. "You bit me! Not in a fun way. Bit like an animal. A dog or a .. a... a Fox. Yes that's it. You nipped me like a fox with sharp little teeth and baby grrrr."

**Greg**

"You were ignoring me - seemed like the best way to get you attention." I grin up at him. "For someone who claims not to be a cuddler, you sure are..."

**Sherlock**

"I was not ignoring you. You make a terrible pillow by the way." I get up, a bit sore, but well worth it. "Tea. Two sugars." I head off towards the loo.

**Greg**

I get up and order room service - tea, fried eggs, bacon, and toast for both of us - and take a few minutes to get dressed. Sherlock comes out just as there is a knock on the door.

**Sherlock**

"We need rings. Good ones. I'm thinking titanium... Oh. Tea." I grab the serving and plop the tray next to me on the bed.

**Greg**

I raise an eyebrow at the view and grin. "You will need to wear clothes, you know."

**Sherlock**

I point towards one of the shopping bags that was delivered yesterday. "Our outfits are in there. I know better than to walk around naked outside. I'd burn horribly and Mycroft would tease me til his dying day."

**Greg**

"Also, you would be very distracting." I take a bite of egg. "I might have to do something rash.  Titanium rings sound good to me. Something simple. Never was a fan of fancy gold rings."

**Sherlock**

"Gold would not do for your complexion." Or worse, my complexion. "We need to be picky. We must catch the attention of the smugglers and get them to come to us. Should only take four, maybe six, different jewelers to accomplish that."

**Greg**

"Four to six jewelers? Really? Jesus, my ex found what she wanted in the second shop we checked out."

**Sherlock**

I glare at him before I retrieve the bag and throw his clothes at him. "No time to eat." His ex... Hmpf. "Sorry I'm not as easy to please but I'm sure if -she- was trying to catch International Jewel Thieves even -she- would have not picked something out of other people’s garbage."

**Greg**

"I don't know. I didn't realize how low her standards were until everything came out in the divorce." I shrugged, grabbing the outfit he tossed to me. I slipped into the loo and got cleaned up and changed - even took care of the stubble taking over my chin. By the time I came back out, Sherlock had finished his tea and was also dressed.

**Sherlock**

I feel his smooth face. "You shaved." For some reason I'm a bit saddened by that. "She may have had low standards in everything else but not in who she chose to marry. Well, her first marriage at least."

**Greg**

"By tonight, I'll be all stubbly again, don't worry. But I didn't think it would do to look like a castaway while shopping for jewelry smugglers." I wink.

**Sherlock**

"It doesn't matter to me." _liar_ "You looked like a man on vacation. Now you look like a Detective." I grab his hand and we set out for the nearest jewelry store.

**Greg**

"No one will notice me - not with you beside me." I give his hand a squeeze and follow him. I know he had spent some time researching the various jewelers, and had formulated a plan to get the smugglers to approach us, so I would just follow his cues.

**Sherlock**

"Idiot. Everyone notices you everywhere. Even Sally has hit on you and I won't even start with Molly! Yuck." The rest of the walk is relatively silent before we get the newest chic place, P.

**Greg**

I huff and roll my eyes at him as we enter the shop. I explain to the young man behind the counter that we are in the market for wedding rings, and he happily directs us to one of the display cases.

**Sherlock**

"No. Absolutely not! Is this a joke? This is junk. Only the idiotic would buy this. I have never been so insult--" By then Greg has grabbed my hand and led me out of the store. "That was fun. Let's do it again."

**Greg**

"Sheesh, Sherlock... can you tone it down just a little?"

**Sherlock**

"I -could- but I won't. Come along Gavin." I drag him into the next store. This one not as new but much better quality.

**Greg**

I groan and let him lead me along. Again, I explain to the clerk what we are looking for, and she directs us to a case in the back.

**Sherlock**

"This again. Did you tell her we're looking for -wedding rings-. The kind we will wear For The Rest Of Our Lives." I speak up loud enough everyone can hear me but not so much that I'm yelling. "Is she hiding the real ones somewhere? Tell her to bring them over."

**Greg**

" _Darling_ " I mumble, "Let's not insult the clerk, please? Not her fault..." I apologize to the clerk in flawless French, and ask if they have any other rings. Unfortunately, they do not - their last shipment has been delayed until next week, she says, so we leave, heading to another shop.

**Sherlock**

"This is fun. You should be the Diva at the next store. Pretending to be so picky is tiring."

**Greg**

"You play the part so much better - especially since you don't speak French." I put my arm around his waist casually.

**Sherlock**

"But I want to hear you curse them out in that perfect poor man’s French of yours." As we pass by an antique store I pull him in. "Look at these!" I hold up the most hideous good awful disgusting salt and pepper shakers I have ever had the displeasure of seeing.

**Greg**

"Good Lord, those are awful... you want to buy them for your brother, don't you?"  I grab the hideous things from Sherlock and take them to the counter, whipping out Mycroft's credit card to pay for them.

**Sherlock**

"They're grotesque but it's almost impossible to look away." The garish pieces of what I assume to be a Devils Food and Angel Food Cakes are misshapen, but worse, the lock together by the horns of the Devils cake to the Halo of the Angel.

**Greg**

"I say we give these to him for Christmas. Seems appropriate, don't you think?" I say with a mischievous grin.

**Sherlock**

I clap my hands in delight. "We can wrap them in the shirt we got him yesterday. Or I can convince Mum they are Holiday Tree ornaments!" I give Greg a quick kiss in the cheek. "See anything you may be interested in?"

**Greg**

I look out the window and see a music store across the road. "Let's go over there for a minute." I nod toward the other store, then proceed to drag Sherlock over there.

**Sherlock**

The sign reads Music-n-More Store. My hopes are not high for finding something here. "If it will make you happy." I am quite proud of myself for remembering to please him with something even though we are in the middle of The Work.

**Greg**

We walk into the store and I take a deep breath and smile. It smells of old records and sheet music. My eyes light up when I see the guitar display along the back wall. I take one down to look at it more closely.

**Sherlock**

I am assaulted by the permeating smell of desperation and teenage boy. The first look reveals more used than new. The second look, however, is of a glowing DI. I pull out my phone and snap a few pictures before he notices what I'm doing. "You look comfortable."

**Greg**

"I haven't played in years..." I had destroyed my last guitar in a fit of drunken rage years ago, and never bothered to replace it. "I wonder how much I still remember..." I sat down and plucked out a few notes, which ended up turning into a simple tune - one of the first songs I'd learned.

**Sherlock**

The worker comes by and nods along with the music he's playing. He grabs a different guitar and offers it to Greg. It's... Pretty?

**Greg**

I take the offered instrument, a beautiful Taylor. It sounded almost angelic as I strum through a few chords. "What do you think, dear?" I ask Sherlock.

**Sherlock**

"I think if you ever decide to live on the beach people would pay you good money to play and talk French to them." I lean down so only he could hear me. "If you did so naked you would be the richest man on the island."

**Greg**

"Maybe when I retire, that's what I should do, then." I say in a low voice. Then, for his ears only, "You will be in charge on sun screen... can't be getting important bits sunburned." I wink.

**Sherlock**

"We forgot sun screen this morning. Maybe we should get that guitar and go back to the room..." I wink at him then leave him be so he can take it for a road test, as the clerk put it.

**Greg**

I nod, and play it a bit longer. Finally, I tell the clerk to have the guitar delivered to our hotel, handing him the black credit card. Once that is settled, I take Sherlock by the hand. "Where to next?"

**Sherlock**

"This next Jeweler is known for signature pieces and an eye for exotic gems. I believe he will be our introduction to the thieves." It's a decent walk so we grab drinks along the way. "The owner will only speak in French and will only work with you if he deems you worthy." I glare at him in warning.

**Greg**

"Right. You just behave yourself this time, yeah?"

**Sherlock**

Pffft."I'm perfectly well behaved."

**Greg**

"Well, good job I speak convincing French then, yeah?" I down half the bottle of water in my hand. "You just stay quiet."

**Sherlock**

"You need to be more than convincing. You need to be charming, suave, attentive, polite, give the sense that he's important. Basically just act like me." More like how I act around Mummy.

**Greg**

"Ne t'inquiète pas, mon cher..." I kiss him lightly on the cheek with a grin.

("Do not worry, my dear")

**Sherlock**

"Hmm. Noli esse stultus." I look at him and translate. "Latin for don't be an idiot." I kiss the tip of his nose as we enter the posh establishment.

**Greg**

We walk into the shop, and are greeting by a rather snooty man in a hideous suit. He reminds me of a shorter, heavier version of Sherlock's brother, in fact. "Good afternoon, sir," I speak to him in perfect French. "We are in the market for a pair of wedding rings. Something simple, but elegant."

**Sherlock**

"Tell him we will speak to Phillippe."

**Greg**

The clerk starts to show us toward a small case of plain rings. "We will speak to Phillippe, please." I say curtly, clearly unhappy with what he's trying to pass off as a decent selection. He huffs, and leaves the room.

**Sherlock**

"Good. Now remember: polite bit not too polite; attentive but not too attentive; let him speak but not too much; easy stuff." I fix a spot of hair beside his ear. "Best behaviour."

**Greg**

I'm about to swat Sherlock's hand away when another man - presumably, Phillippe - walks in.

**Phillippe**

I look at the obvious trophy husband and his spouse. "How can I help you Sirs?" If he can afford a full time rent boy he -may- be able to afford a small piece of my jewelry.

**Greg**

"Good afternoon. I have been told that you could provide us what we need." I say smoothly

**Phillippe**

"Yes. For a price." I pull him away from his prize. "Combien coûte-t-il? Un garço à louer comme lui. (How much does he cost? A rent boy like him). I have been looking for one myself but seeing yours I would not settle for less. Perhaps a trade could be made?"

**Greg**

With a mildly angry growl, I snap in French "I believe you are mistaken. That young man there is my husband, and we are looking for wedding rings. If all you have are insults, then I shall take our business elsewhere."

**Phillippe**

"Must be quite the skill set to go from boy to husband." I look the escort up and down focusing on the hollow of the throat exposed by the few undone buttons on the top of his purple shirt. "I have a selection that will show off your purchase well and, dare I say, even enhance his value."

**Greg**

"Fine, then. Show us what you have, and we will decide its value."

**Phillippe**

I lead the gentleman and his toy to a well-lit row of gems. "This will give you some ideas to keep in mind as you look at the settings." I move them down to the wall with various personally designed setting. "But first let us find the perfect band as a base." I lead them past basic gold and silver and to the Platinum.

**Greg**

"These are good, but would definitely need something... they are rather plain." I say, showing Sherlock one of the plain platinum bands.

**Sherlock**

I make a bored face and shake my head. "I think we were lied to. Nothing special about these."

**Phillippe**

I can recognize the beginning of a tantrum when I see one so I quickly point out some braided platinum with tungsten and a few other novel ideas.

**Greg**

"What about this one, love?" I ask Sherlock sweetly. It was a platinum band with a blank tungsten inlay.

**Sherlock**

I look at the band then at him and shrug. "Seems so... Boring." I glance at Phillippe and see his face pinch up so he must understand what I'm saying despite the dossier saying he speaks nothing but French.

**Greg**

"Perhaps once we have a few stones set, you will like it better?"

**Sherlock**

"Maybe. It's worth a shot. As long as they are better than the bands." I pay more attention to my cuticles than the jewels which really are superb but legitimate, mostly.

**Phillippe**

I suggest they sit in the parlor and I will bring them a selection while my assistant plies them with champagne.

**Greg**

I nod curtly at Phillippe, and take Sherlock by the arm, heading toward the parlor, where the clerk from earlier waits with two flutes of champagne. We take a set as we wait for Phillippe to return. "He definitely speaks English, just refuses to." I murmur to Sherlock after the clerk leaves the room.

**Sherlock**

"Brilliant deduction. How did you make it?" I take a sip of the champagne then spit it right back into the flute. "Disgusting. For a man with a gift for jewelry he has no taste in any thing else."

**Greg**

I roll my eyes. "Just pour most of it into that potted plant over there." I nod. I sip at mine - it is pretty bad champagne, but not the worst I've ever had. After Sherlock has emptied most of his glass into the unsuspecting plant's pot, Phillippe returns with a tray with a few bands - most similar to the ones we'd seen - as well as a few stones.

**Sherlock**

My eyes light up when I see the Australian Black Opal. I quickly hid my appreciation but not quick enough for Greg to miss is. "These bands are much better. The settings are adequate. The gems, however, are as lacking as the champagne we were served." I act as if neither of us know the proprietor speaks no English.

**Greg**

"So you have any other stones? I was assured that you have a much better selection than these." I say to Phillippe, as he barely disguises his glare at Sherlock. Oh yes, he completely understands English...

**Sherlock**

"Ask him if we find -the- stone if he could at least put it in that band you liked. He should be able to handle a simple task as that." His assistant comes back through to say something but I wave him off. "Shoo. You who brings flea market champagne. Be gone fowl beast."

**Greg**

I look at Phillippe. "Perhaps if you had the right stone for my husband, you could set it in an acceptable band?"

**Phillippe**

"Perhaps the right stone does not exist for so -precious- a flower. Leave your information with my assistant. I will consider it." I turn my back to them and walk away in a huff.

**Greg**

I turn to Sherlock and grin. "I told you this shop was a waste of time." I get to my feet. "There are no stones of real value here."

**Sherlock**

Phillippe looks apoplectic at these words. "The settings are decent. We may come back but I doubt it. I can't believe the concierge recommended this place." I ignore the raised eyes of the clerk. Once we are a few blocks away I pull Greg into a cafe. "I believe the clerk will have someone tailing us very soon. We must stay in character at all times now."

**Greg**

"Sounds like a fun challenge." I reach across the table and take his hand. "Let's grab some lunch, maybe? Head back to the hotel?"

**Sherlock**

"We still have a few more shops but I think they can wait if you have a better offer."

**Greg**

I smile at him with a mischievous sparkle in my eye. "Well, what would a newlywed couple like us be doing this time of day?"

**Sherlock**

"Depends on how well one husband has pleased the other." I wink at him. "Do you feel pleased?"

**Greg**

"I suppose. I think I can be more pleased, though."

**Sherlock**

What I had hoped would be a simple yes turned into the knowledge that Greg is not happy with me. "Oh. Sorry."

**Greg**

I bring his knuckles to my lips, kissing them softly. "Let me rephrase that. I'm pleased _with_ you. I'd rather be pleased _by_ you."

**Sherlock**

I can feel the blush to the tip of my ears. "My mistake. I had read about reciprocation but forgot. I will remedy that at once. Then you will be -pleased-." I get up from the table and head straight out to flag down a cab.

**Greg**

I chuckle at his enthusiasm. "Remind me sometime to check out what you've been reading..." I follow him to the cab.

**Sherlock**

"There are many informative pages. The particular one I am referencing says if one does not reciprocate often enough their lover will find another partner who does." The ride feels too quick and too short. I can't keep my leg from bouncing or not bite my cuticles.

**Greg**

"Well, that's not something you need to worry about... Pleasing you pleases me." I take his hands. "But I'd like to learn more of what you've read."

**Sherlock**

As we go through the lobby I tick off some of the more interesting information I've read. "Enemas are encouraged. Fisting should only be done with extensive practice and preparation. Fellatio is often an adequate substitute for anal sex when one is tired or recently torn or suffering from hemorrhoids, which are more common then you may think." The lady waiting next to us for the lift decides to take the stairs for some reason.

**Greg**

I stifle a laugh. "Well, she's learned a lot more than she planned on her holiday." I watch as the woman hurries away, her face bright red. I lean over and whisper "Remember... book-learning is nothing like reality."

**Sherlock**

"Are you aware that having sex in several different ways has the ability to cure a headache, insomnia, and craving for most drugs?" Finally the doors open and we get in to the lift.

**Greg**

"I knew it was a cure for insomnia, but I didn't know about the others... a headache is usually an excuse for avoiding sex, in my experience."

**Sherlock**

"Good to know. So if I ask if you have a headache you will say yes if you don't want sex?"

**Greg**

"I won't lie to you - I'll just tell you if I don't want sex. Won't happen often, I'm sure..." I push him up against the wall of the lift. "I pretty much always want you."

**Sherlock**

The bell dings just as he starts biting my neck and grinding up against me. An elderly couple steps on as we step off. The older lady winks at me as we pass.

**Greg**

I grab his wrist and practically drag him back to our suite.

**Sherlock**

"That lady. She. Winked. Why?" He swipes the card and pulls me cross the threshold.

**Greg**

"She probably knows that you're going to get lucky tonight... or that I am..."

**Sherlock**

"But not both?" Once the door is closed he manhandles me to the bed. I go willingly. Once on the bed I start to undress as quick as possible.

**Greg**

I straddle his thighs as I watch him unbutton his shirt, revealing his perfect, smooth skin. As the fabric slides away, I push him back into the pillows, my lips brushing over his collar bones, my tongue tasting, teeth grazing.

**Sherlock**

"How... How am I... Uhh... Reciprocate." I try to push him away enough to ask what he wants me to do but not enough to stop what he's doing. "Gregory. How am I to umm... give back if I'm under you?"

**Greg**

I smile against his chest. "Sorry... got carried away. Not my fault... you put all sorts of ideas in my head." I nip at collar bone, leaving a small pink mark there. _Mine_ I think to myself for a moment.

**Sherlock**

He rolls off and next to me so I turn to my side to face him. Unsure of exactly what to do I start with unbuttoning his shirt and kissing the skin as it's exposed. "Tell me if I do something wrong."

**Greg**

"You'll do fine, love... just explore. Do what you know you would like. I'll tell you what's good... like that." I shiver as he smooths his hands over my chest.

**Sherlock**

I look up him wanting so much for him to understand that I don't know. I don't know what I would like or wouldn't. I don't know what I can and shouldn't explore. __my body has been nothing but transport til he came along__ "I'll do my best." It can't be too hard. I have read up on it. __very well. lets go.__


	11. Chapter 11

**Greg**

I notice his hesitation. I bring his lips back up to mine and kiss him softly as he unbuttons my shirt.

**Sherlock**

"Wait. Stay right here." I jump off the bed and grab the bag I asked the Concierge to have purchased and brought to our room. In it is a few different lubes, massage lotions, and, most importantly, a slender vibrator. There's also a few unasked for items she must have decided to throw in. I bring the bag back to the bed and dump out the contents. "Not all of it was my idea."

**Greg**

"You really have researched this, haven't you?" I smile at him as I sit up. I lean back on my elbows and survey the assortment with interest. "Well, be a shame for all that work to go to waste... what do you have in mind?"

**Sherlock**

I look a bit weary though I am trying to sound confident. "I wanted to try a few things. There's a rather interesting article on fellatio on Wikipedia. They suggest a slender vibrator, well-lubed, enhances the experience. Not knowing exactly which lube to purchase I asked for a wide selection." As I've been talking, and avoiding eye contact, I've sorted and lined up all the products in the bag.

**Greg**

I put my hand under his chin and bring his eyes to mine. "You don't have to try so hard to impress me... just touch me. I'll tell you what's good." I run my thumb over his lips.

**Sherlock**

I search his eyes for any lie, any pity, any judgement, but find none. "The articles all say if I don't impress you, you will look for sex from someone else and it will be just a matter of time before you cut me out of your life."

**Greg**

"The articles you've been reading? What have you been reading - tabloids?  Trust me... they are wrong."

**Sherlock**

"Wikipedia, something called fetlife, and a few others..." I mumble out the sources feeling quite embarrassed. I start putting things back in the bag. "Some of it sounded like they knew what they were talking about. I'll just discard these things."

**Greg**

I grab his hands. "Stop, love. It's okay. You've not done anything wrong. I guess I just didn't realize..." _I didn't realize how inexperienced he really is_ "... it's not important. Will you let me teach you, then?"

**Sherlock**

I nod eagerly. "Yes. Please." I pour the items in the bag back out. "I want to try out the vibrator and the honey flavored lube." I set those aside and push the rest onto the floor. "We should be naked for this." I stand up and quickly drop my trousers which was all I had left on. Gregory has only unzipped his khakis and pulled then down a bit so I grab them by the ankles and yank them the rest of the way off. He's still wearing pants, the cutest boxers with small handcuffs printed on them, and his unbuttoned shirt.

**Greg**

I pull him back onto the bed and put my arms around him, pulling him close. Kissing him deeply, I let one hand sweep down his back and grasp a handful of his plump arse, pulling his hips against me, our cocks separated only by the thin fabric of my boxers.

**Sherlock**

This part I can do. Kissing him is easy and enjoyable. I did not eep a bit when he grabbed my arse, don't believe him if he says differently. I grind against him the way he did to me early. I'm a bit clumsy as I try to grind, remove his shirt, and try to keep my balance while still kissing him. __note: sex is harder than it looks__

**Greg**

I let out a surprised sound when he grinds against me – apparently, he _was_ paying attention before, I grin to myself. "Feels good, yeah?" I push back against him.

**Sherlock**

I push his shirt as far off his shoulders as possible. "Will feel even better if you took this bloody thing off."

**Greg**

"All right, all right." I shrug the shirt off and fling it across the room, then resume kissing his long neck. "Better?" I growl against his collar bone.

**Sherlock**

"Yes. Much." I withhold from saying how obviously better it is for both of us. "I want to see you." I stop moving and look at him. My hands softly stroke up and down his chest, his sides, his neck and jaw.

**Greg**

His fingertips make me shiver. "Mmmm... that's nice." I arch against his touch.

**Sherlock**

I grab one of the massage oils as I climb off of him. "Lay on your stomach." I leave it to him to decide if he wants to keep the pants __which are adorkable__ or not.

**Greg**

I consider for a moment, then slip off my boxers and roll onto my stomach, resting my head on my folded arms.

**Sherlock**

His arse is lovely and his skin has only the faint hint of tan lines. "Nude sunbathing in London? You do like to live dangerously."

**Greg**

"No one complains, even if they can see me on the roof." I chuckle. Sherlock's warm, oiled hands interrupt my train of thought as they press smoothly up my back and over my shoulders. "That's nice..." I say in a hoarse voice.

**Sherlock**

"This is Science." I apply pressure on along his muscle's natural route. Quickly he is relaxing and the few knots I find are dissipating. I move down to his lower back and focus on his lumbars. "You are amazingly relaxed for a young DI."

**Greg**

He really knows what he's doing - haven't had a massage this good in years, if ever. "I don't spend a lot of time stuck at my desk. That helps." I groan as he works out a particularly stubborn knot.

**Sherlock**

I apply some more lotion as I move down to his arse proper. I take my time simply touching and committing his feel to memory. "It shows. Gorgeous. Delectable. Perfect."

**Greg**

Now the massage is decidedly better. I moan into my arm as he kneads my arse. Every stroke, every squeeze, makes my cock ache for him, and it's all I can do to keep from thrusting against the bed just for the friction.

**Sherlock**

I follow the crease of his cheeks with my fingertips. "Michelangelo would be jealous of my view." I part his cheeks with my palms and run my thumb up and down the inside of his arse. I add a bit more lotion and rub softly around his anus. "I'll return to this later."

**Greg**

I growl at that. "Tease..."

**Sherlock**

I slap his arse playfully then move down to his thighs. He has the strong thick thighs of a runner. "How many miles do you run a day?" The inane chatter helps to ease my nerves. __and no one likes it when you tell them the answer without asking the question__

**Greg**

"I try to do at least three," I bite out as his hands on my thighs make my toes curl. "Running helps me unwind after a rough day."

**Sherlock**

__three miles in work days, five on days off, three more on bad days__ I spend a few minutes mapping out the muscles in his calves before moving to his feet. "Do you believe in Reflexology?" __please don't let him be one of those__

**Greg**

"Not really. I just know I really like what you're doing with your hands right now." I mumble as he massages my feet. I always have been a sucker for a foot massage, what, with as much time as I spend on my feet during an average day.

**Sherlock**

"It's one of those fake sciences to amuse the masses." I'm quite relieved that my goldfish isn't as easy to fool as most. I kiss his ankle before I set his foot down. "When you're ready turn over."

**Greg**

"You're sure you want me to do that, are you?" I turn my head to look up at him. Obviously, there's no way I'll be able to hide my erection while lying on my back.

**Sherlock**

My nerves come back a bit. I get up and head to the liquor cabinet. "Yes. And no." I end up pouring us each a glass of soda water and bringing it over to him. "Yes. I want to see you and touch you. No. I don't want to disappoint you."

**Greg**

"You won't disappoint me." I roll slowly onto my back, my cock erect and obviously in need of attention.

**Sherlock**

Even knowing I've had his penis inside me I am still daunted by its length and width. "Top or bottom?"

**Greg**

"I have been fantasizing about you riding me for months." I smooth my fingertips along his thigh. "You comfortable with that?"

**Sherlock**

I blush so hard I must glow. "Umm. Yeah. I like that. But. Umm. I meant start at top or bottom. The massage." Ok, now is a really good time for that drink.

**Greg**

"You can start wherever you like... so long as you end up in the middle." I grin, wiggling my hips so my cock bounces. His eyes bounce along with it.

**Sherlock**

I roll my eyes as I return with two glasses with just a bit of Brandy. His easygoing humor relaxes all the tension in my brain. __for now at least__ Since I was near his head when I set the glass down I decide I'll start there. But first... I lean down to kiss him for a few moments. _this. this already feels natural. right__

**Greg**

I lean up and kiss him back with a whine. "I love having your hands on me." I reach for his hands and pull them to my chest.

**Sherlock**

The lotion still on my hands make for easy sliding. I climb on the bed and straddle him. "We will start with your face and move down." I almost said we would start with his head, but I caught myself before I made that mistake.

**Greg**

I stroke my hands up his thighs. "Somehow, this isn't quite as relaxing as before... not complaining, though..." I comment as my hands move from his thighs to his hips and up his sides.

**Sherlock**

"Maybe this isn't meant to be relaxing." I had left the lotion down by his feet so I turned and stretched for it. Gregory took advantage, that I was happy about, of that position by moving his hands

**Greg**

Sherlock stretches out like a cat to reach the massage lotion at the far end of the bed, leaving him exposed and defenseless. My hand roam back to his lovely arse, my palm smoothing over the pale skin. "Talk about a view to be envious of..." I gave his cheek a squeeze.

**Sherlock**

Righting myself, with the lotion, I apply some to his forehead. His skin is soft and mostly smooth. "Do me a favor and don't shave your beard tomorrow." I scratch the area I'm intending. "I want to feel it against my skin."

**Greg**

"Never took you for the type to like that, but sure - only for you." I purr as his hands stroke my neck and shoulders.

**Sherlock**

I shrug. "I don't know if I -will- like it but I would like to try." I scoot down so our dicks are aligned, which I'm ignoring for now, and start in on his chest. Feeling emboldened I kiss several places before my hand follows.

**Greg**

I shiver as his lips brush my shoulder, my collar bone, my chest. When he settles himself lower, and there's the tiniest amount of friction as our cocks brush together, I bite my lip with a whimper, curling my fingers against his thighs,

**Sherlock**

I feel the need to hurry up this sweet torture for both of us. I sweep my hands past his abs briefly then get off to stay in the same position but turned around.

**Greg**

I can't help myself. Who would be able to keep from touching, stroking, squeezing that beautiful ivory skin? I sit up a bit and grab hold of his hips, my thumbs rubbing over the muscular arse he's so thoughtfully presented to me.

**Sherlock**

I jump a bit at the unexpected touch. I head the click of the bottle of lube and look behind me. There he is with his eyes closed and hand wrapped around the base of his cock. "All done." I rub the excess lotion onto the sheets as I turn back around.

**Greg**

"Mmmm... no... I think you missed a spot..." I grin, eyes still close, slowly stroking my cock.

**Sherlock**

__ a very big BIG spot__ "If you mean the rest if your legs I will do them some other time." I stay straddled in his lap and scoot closer til the back of his knuckles brush against my cock as he strokes himself. "May I?"

**Greg**

I open my eyes and look up at him. "Please do." My voice hardly more than a whisper as I take his hand and wrap it around my cock with a shiver.

**Sherlock**

I look from our entwined hands to his brown eyes and back and forth. "Show me...?" I want to sound like a command but it comes out as the whispered plea that it actually is.

**Greg**

I smile up at him, silently agreeing to his request. I tighten my hand over his slightly, and guiding him to stroke my cock firmly. "Just like that," I encourage him with a groan. I let go of his hand and he continues, nice and slow. "God, yes, just like that." I arch back into the pillows.

**Sherlock**

He opens his eyes when I let go for a moment. "Patience Gregory. I want to get in a better position." With a wink I get off him and lay at his side with my head on the lower part of his chest before I put my hand back on him.

**Greg**

"Mmhmm..." I guide his hand back to where I need it, and he resumes stroking. A growl comes from my throat as his thumb strokes over my head.

**Sherlock**

I lean in closer and tentatively lick off the small bead of precum. It has a unique taste that I can't quite place. I lick a few more times, going as far as to put the tip of my tongue into the slit at the top of his head.

**Greg**

I just about jump out of my skin when his tongue touches me. "Damn... you're a quick study..." I brush my hand over his hair softly.

**Sherlock**

Encouraged by his response I make longer licks around the head of cock in time with slow strokes of his shaft. There's no way I could fit him all in my mouth. __yet__ His family is Catholic is obvious by the fact that he is circumcised. Which is good so I can study it better. Many different experiments float through my head but they will have to wait. "I want to try something." I grab the lube and reach for the slim vibrator.

**Greg**

"Just so long as you keep doing that..." I gasp out as his tongue glides over my skin. When I see him reach for the lube, I shift, lifting a knee and spreading my thighs a little bit.

**Sherlock**

Before I move to kneel between his legs I liberally coat my fingers with lube. I place my middle finger at the higher end of his parted cheeks and draw it down til I find the pucker. Rubbing my finger in small circles I go back to licking his head. I try to put what I can in my mouth and do a suckling technique I had read.

**Greg**

"That... that's good. Oh, god, that's good..." I whine, trying not to thrust up deeper into his mouth. _I have no idea where he learned that, but he's going to have to teach me..._

**Sherlock**

I rotate the licking with the suckling and move my concentration to his anus. I press down a big harder with my finger until I'm just at the rim then back away. I replace my mouth with my hand so I can give his arse my full concentration.

**Greg**

I whimper when he pulls his mouth away, then gasp as he starts expertly stroking my cock, root to tip, and his fingers tease my arse.

**Sherlock**

I barely breach up to my first knuckle at first. He seems remarkable relaxed. "Is this ok?"

**Greg**

"Mmhmm... feels good..." My hips move so that I am alternately thrusting up into his hand, and pushing back onto his finger. "More..."

**Sherlock**

I enter my finger fully and set a search for -that spot-. It isn't until I add a second finger that I find it, almost by accident. Greg lets out a long moan and cum pearls on the head of his cock. Without thought I lean down and lick if off.

**Greg**

I shudder when his tongue touches me. He continues his assault on my prostate, driving me closer and closer to the edge.

**Sherlock**

My Scientist Brain is kicking in. All this data and exploration. "How does this feel?" I take as much of his cock in my mouth as possible til it hits the back of my throat. I hum with the feeling of empowerment.

**Greg**

"Fuck!" I screw my head back into the pillows, my fingers curling white-knuckled in the sheets.

**Sherlock**

I scissor in and out a few times before I reach for the vibe. I enter it as I pull my fingers out. For a while I just play with angle and depth while I suck him off. This could quickly become a substitute for smoking.

**Greg**

It's been a long time since someone had used a vibrator on me. I'd forgotten how good that could be. And with Sherlock's skill (either innate or book-learned, I can't tell... but I don't really care) at blowjobs, this wasn't going to take much longer. I rake my fingers through his hair, hips stuttering every time the vibe glides over my prostate.

**Sherlock**

His reactions guide my movements. A twitch of his hips has me let up on his prostate for a moment. A moan and a tightened fist in my hair makes me hum and suck harder. A breathless gasp from him is when I stroke faster. But it's when he says my name that I love the best.

**Greg**

My mind is whirling, trying to keep up with what he's doing, when I lose what little control I had left. "Fuck... Sherlock..." I manage to say before my orgasm sweeps over me. I arch up against his mouth. My fist curls tightly in his hair, then releases, returning to soft strokes as I glide back down to reality.

**Sherlock**

"Remarkable. Let’s try that again."  I grab his drink from the night stand and use it to get some of the taste out of my mouth. "Not bad." I head to the mini kitchen for bottled water.

**Greg**

I melt into the bed as he gets up, catching my breath. "Remarkable, he says..." I chuckle. "So... do you deem that experiment a success?" I call after him.  "Because I sure as hell do."

**Sherlock**

"A successful experiment is one that can be repeated with the same results. This was to establish a baseline. Now we know how long it takes you to come from a blow job and vibrator." I glance at my phone and hit a few buttons. "Let me know when you're hard again so we can judge your refractory time."


	12. Chapter 12

**Greg**

I roll onto my side and lean on one elbow. "It's not like an on/off switch, Sherlock. Come back to bed for a bit." I smile at him as he walks back in from the kitchen. Suddenly, I hear a light knock at the suite door. Grabbing a dressing gown, I answer the door, speaking briefly with the bell boy who is delivering a note to us. After tipping him, I close the door and return to the bedroom with the note. "I believe this is something we've been waiting for." I hold the note up.

**Sherlock**

"I turned it off. Now it's on. Why can't you do that?" Goldfish are exasperating. I rush to the door to see who delivered the note but Greg keeps me from leaving the room naked, again. When the door shuts I make grabby hands for the note.

**Greg**

"Now... where were we..." I give him a cheeky grin, tucking the note in my dressing gown pocket."

**Sherlock**

I duck under his arm and grab the note and tear open then envelope. "Oh. It's an invitation. For Mr and Mr. Cumberbatch." I set the invitation aside and take then envelope to my traveling evidence case to dust for prints and examine under black light. "Where does my brother get these ridiculous names from?"

**Greg**

"Probably some bloke he shagged in university, knowing your brother." I mumble. "You don't really think you'll find anything on that, do you?"

**Sherlock**

It's clean except for a few fingerprints. "Nothing except your prints." I snip off a small portion and put it in a solution to check later. "Card." I demand with my hand out stretched. "And tea."

**Greg**

I flop into the chair in the corner, my dressing gown falling open in the process. I hold up the note (by the edges, to minimize my own fingerprints on it) to read it. "Seems we've attracted some attention, as we'd hoped. We are to meet someone at the cafe across from that last jewelry shop - the one with the snooty owner - at 9pm tonight." I look over at the bedside clock - it's only slightly after 2pm now. "That gives us plenty of time."

**Sherlock**

"Yes. For you to go get a haircut and a decent pair of shoes. And make me tea." Because he apparently did not understand what I meant by -card- I go over to him and take it. A quick sniff is all it takes to place it to the clerk. "What was that minions name? Ralph or Ronald or something."

**Greg**

"I don't remember. I didn't listen to him long enough to get a name. The owner was Phillippe." I shrug, getting up from the chair sans dressing gown. I walk through the bedroom, collecting my clothing and start to get dressed.

**Sherlock**

"I have more important things to do then remember the name of some flunky. From now on you will have to do those things. Talk to people, remember their names and such." I poke at the envelope piece in the solution with sadness. "Shame. There's no poison on it."

**Greg**

"Of course there's no poison on it... they want our money, not our lives." I say as I pull my shirt back on. "If they'd poisoned the envelope, we could safely assume we've been made, and your brother needs to find another agent to handle this." I walk into the kitchen and start making tea.

**Sherlock**

"One can -hope-. Poison would be interesting." I take my laptop into bed and yell out random information about the minion as he makes tea and toast.

**Greg**

I walk in with a cup of tea and set it on the bedside table for him. "Two sugars, no milk, right?"

**Sherlock**

"Where's the toast?"

**Greg**

I sigh and shake my head. "Fine... toast, too..." I head back into the kitchen to see if we have any bread.

**Sherlock**

"Oh. You had poison. That's so sweet. But why give it to me now?" The tea tastes as if it has dirt and arsenic for main ingredients.

**Greg**

I snort. "Believe me, I have no intention of poisoning you. You may be an annoying git, but you have some skills I can appreciate." I return to the bedroom with a plate of toast.

**Sherlock**

I go to make a remark about how toast should be toasted before it can be considered toast but even I am not that ignorant of people’s feelings (despite what Brother Mine may say). "Thank you." I set the dirt next to the plate of bread and go back to researching the assistant. "It seems Sebastian Andrews has been looked into by CIA, Interpol, and a few other organizations but there has never been enough proof of his involvement."

**Greg**

"Well, maybe we can change that this evening."

**Sherlock**

"This explains why it was you and I that were sent in this mission.”

**Greg**

"Does it, now? Care to enlighten me?" I flop back into the chair with my coffee.

**Sherlock**

“You can legally detain any suspect and I can get the proof needed."

**Greg**

"Detain him? I have no jurisdiction here, Sherlock. I can't actually arrest someone..."

**Sherlock**

My eyes roll. "Did I say arrest? Hmm? No. I said detain. There are many ways an officer in such high regard as yourself can -detain- a suspect. Since I am not hampered by the same rules you are I can move freely to get the information needed." After a few more clicks on the laptop I start laughing hysterically. "He.. He.. Oh dear... He! LOOK!"   


[www.dateadork.com](http://www.dateadork.com)  
Profile  
Name: Seb Andrews  
Age: 30something  
Gender: M  


The profile goes on to list likes, dislikes, etc.

**Greg**

Sherlock has dissolved into a puddle of giggles, pointing at his laptop. I climb onto the bed beside him and look for myself. "Hobbies are photography, rock collecting, and playing Magic the Gathering. Oh, wow, this guy is a piece of work..."

**Sherlock**

"Turn ons: foreign languages, artists and musicians, people with realistic avatars..."

**Greg**

"So... maybe I can keep him occupied if I play guitar for him? That would look bad... newlywed on holiday with his husband, trying to seduce someone else..."

**Sherlock**

Hmmph. "No. Definitely not happening." I glare at him then continue reading. "Turn offs: snobs, divas, and players. Why does he say he likes games but not players? Does he mean he prefers to play by himself? Interesting."

**Greg**

"By players, I think he means people who pretend to be serious, but are really just stringing you along." I nod. "I've had my fair share of those, so I can see what he means."

**Sherlock**

I nod knowingly. "Do you see anything here we can use?"

**Greg**

"Well, short of me flirting with him, this might be a challenge. " I wonder aloud.

**Sherlock**

I push the laptop back in annoyance. "I do give him credit for writing self-employed." I look at Greg and wonder if maybe he should flirt with the man. __no!__ "-Would- you flirt with him if it was what's best for the case?" Seems to be the easiest and best option.

**Greg**

I look at him awkwardly. "Is there any other way?"

**Sherlock**

"There's always another way. We could poison him."

**Greg**

I stifle a laugh. "That seems a little drastic, don't you think?" I nudge his shoulder. "It would also make it a bit more difficult to find out the names of his sources, his contacts..."

**Sherlock**

"Difficult but not impossible. I will only poison him a little bit." A small amount of a simple hallucinogen and some special effects would loosen his tongue. "Where would we find lysergic acid diethylamide on short notice? Think. Think."

**Greg**

"Locating LSD isn't really my area, Sherlock." I run my fingers through my hair nervously. "How much would it bother you? If I flirted with him?"

**Sherlock**

I huff and flop to my back on the bed. "Prefer not too... But needs must." The Work is more Important. __is it really?__ "I request compensation afterwards."

**Greg**

"Definitely. And I promise it'll be no more than words." I snuggle up against him.  "He can't expect more... I'm a newlywed, after all..."

**Sherlock**

"He will -want- more." I show off my best pout lip and sad eyes. "Everyone wants more."

**Greg**

"He can just -want- then, because he's not going to get more." I say resolutely. "And afterward, I'm coming back here and fucking you until you forget your name."

**Sherlock**

"Promise." I turn to my side and grind up against him.

**Greg**

"Promise." I reply with a grin. I grab his arse and pull him tightly up against me, and kiss him until we are both breathless.

**Sherlock**

I take him with me as I turn to my back. "Give me a preview."

**Greg**

"Oh, before it was 'enough time for a haircut and shoes'... now you have other plans? You fickle thing, you." I say with a grin, kissing down his neck.

**Sherlock**

"Haircut and shoes. Why did you remind me?" I groan. "We'll just have to be quick." I yank him back in to the kiss.

**Greg**

I smile into the kiss. "I've always liked a challenge." I make quick work of my shirt, flinging it across the room.

**Sherlock**

I scratch my nails down his back and thrust my hips up. "Then consider this a challenge." I hook one leg around his and find a good rhythm for grinding.

**Greg**

I arch my back and hiss as he scratches my back. I reach over and grab the bottle of lube we'd left on the bedside table, pouring a liberal amount into my palm before I reach between us and wrap my hand around his cock. His fingers dig into my hip as I start stroking him firmly.

**Sherlock**

"Fu... Ugh. Good." A thought pops into my head. "Would you... Could I... Would it me weird if I... Asked you to put a... umm... plug in me...?"

**Greg**

"Not weird at all." I grin as I slow my strokes. I look over at the bag of toys he'd brought. "Pick one."

**Sherlock**

I blush hard and shrug my shoulders. It was hard enough to ask but choosing which one is too... Embarrassing. "Whateveryoupick."

**Greg**

I kiss him - softly this time - and reach into the bag, pulling out one of the less intimidating pieces. "Don't be embarrassed to tell me what you like, love." I whisper in his ear as I take my hand off his cock, reaching my slicked fingers lower.

**Sherlock**

All I can do it nod. "With your size and everything..." __please don't make me say it__

**Greg**

My fingertips circle his rim, and I press a single finger into him, then a second. "Just relax" I whisper into his neck.

**Sherlock**

Mmmmm His scruff is delicious on my neck. I scratch the nape of his neck.  There's still a bit of soreness from yesterday but his gentleness and attentiveness more than makes up for any discomfort.

**Greg**

"Tell me if it's too much." I twist my fingers, gently stretching. "I don't want to hurt you."

**Sherlock**

"You haven't." There's so much gentleness radiating out of his big brown eyes. "I trust you."

**Greg**

I curl my fingers upward, brushing his prostate. He writhes against my fingers, begging incoherently. I nudge a third finger against his rim.

**Sherlock**

"Yes. Gregory. Please." My thoughts are jumbled. I reach a hand between us and stroke my cock as much as possible.

**Greg**

I slip a third finger into him, stretching him just a bit more before withdrawing. I pour some lube onto the plug and slowly slide it into him. With my other hand, I pull his hand away from his cock and take over stroking him. "This what you like, love? Want to feel full?"

**Sherlock**

My back arches and a groan leaves me. "I want to feel you. Be full of you." The plug is hitting my prostate each time his callused hand reached the bottom of my shaft.

**Greg**

"Tonight, you'll have me." I purr in his ear. "Right now, I want you to show me how good this is for you..."

**Sherlock**

His strokes are getting tighter and faster, igniting that telltale sign of impending orgasm. "Yeah. Like that." His scruff against my chest is probably leaving a burn but I don't care with how exquisite it feels. "I want you."

**Greg**

I kiss him roughly as I stroke him. "I'm yours, 'Lock." I whisper against his neck. "Always yours."

**Sherlock**

"No one... Ever... Lock." He bites down on my chest and I explode. Sensory overload takes over and my only thought is him and his eyes. "Gregory."

**Greg**

I stroke him through as he spills over my hand, and gently kiss his chest, soothing the red mark I've left there. I look into his eyes when he finally relaxes, and smile.

**Sherlock**

I hold him close to me and breath in his scent. He smells like leather and coffee and something not explainable. "Lock?"

**Greg**

"Not good?" I ask.

**Sherlock**

"I. No one." I shake my head to clear it from the haze it's in. "No one has ever called me Lock. Or any name that wasn't Sherlock. Unless you count Freak, Weirdo, Dick, those types of names."

**Greg**

"I'll never call you those things. I always call you 'Lock in my head... it just slipped out." I retrieve a damp flannel from the bathroom and clean him up gently.

**Sherlock**

I hide my head. "I liked it." _Lock. Gregory's Lock_ The thought makes me smile.

**Greg**

"I'm glad you like it."

**Sherlock**

"But I am those things. Mycroft showed me my file. At best I am a high functioning sociopath. At worst..." Freak. Monster. They all fit. "I do agree when they call me a dick. At least that's one I've earned." I grin at him knowing he remembers the first time I met Sally and Anderson.

**Greg**

"People call you those things to hurt you." I stroke his cheek. "I will never hurt you."

**Sherlock**

"Yes you will." I turn and kiss his palm. "And I will hurt you. But I will never do so purposely."

**Greg**

I nuzzle against his neck as I pull the plug back out slowly. "Go get cleaned up, then we'll head out so you can make me pretty." I say with a smile.


	13. Chapter 13

**Sherlock**

My eyes light up with the knowledge of getting to style Gregory. "Wonderful!" I get cleaned and ready as quick as possible. "We will have to get you a new outfit, shoes, haircut, all the things."

**Greg**

I roll my eyes. "Wait a sec... everything? I thought I just needed a haircut and new shoes..." I flop back on the bed and throw my arm over my eyes dramatically.

**Sherlock**

"Stop being a drama queen. It doesn't suit you." I roll up the sleeves of my shirt and make sure I have my sunglasses. "Haircut. Shoes. Evening outfit."

**Greg**

"And you know all about how to be a proper drama queen," I grin. I swing my legs off the bed and retrieve my shirt. "I put myself in your fashionable hands, my dear." I slip my arms around his waist.

**Sherlock**

Pfft "I am only dramatic when on a case." A quick kiss to his temple and we are off to shop.

**Greg**

I let Sherlock drag me through several shops to find what he insisted would be the 'perfect evening outfit' for me. Personally, I'd wear something I already had hanging in the wardrobe in our room, but picking out clothes for me seems to make him happy. Once he's found what I should wear, we head to a barber shop near the end of the road.

**Sherlock**

Greg watches via the mirror as I explain to the barber what I want done with his hair. A small meep escapes me when her assistant suggests adding some dye to cover the grey. "Do not let him near my husband’s hair." I also tell the barber we need a proper shave. "I will miss your scruff."

**Greg**

"Luckily, it'll be back in a day or two, love." I smile at him as the barber gets ready to start my trim. I could almost feel Sherlock watching nervously.

**Sherlock**

Another person pulls me over to the waiting area and offers me a glass of wine. "Make sure they don't mess up." The repercussions would be swift and painful.

**Greg**

"He's a little, um, protective." I apologize to the barber before he starts the shave. "And possessive. But he's harmless, really." I blush. _As long as we don't screw up._ I put my head back and relax so she can do the shave.

**Sherlock**

I spend most the time in the waiting area deducing patrons and employees alike. After an exorbitant amount of time I go see what's going on.

**Greg**

Clean shaven and hair neatly trimmed (not too short), the stylist is working on my hair when Sherlock returns. "What do you think, dear?" I wink at him.

**Sherlock**

I examine him from a few different views. "Acceptable." Thankfully his hair hasn't been touched up like that ridiculous employee suggested. As he gets finishing touches I take the card I nicked from him to go pay the bill.

**Greg**

I slip an arm around him as we walk out of the barber shop. "Would a little bit of highlighting have been that bad?" I pout playfully.

**Sherlock**

"Are you serious?" hmpf "It would ruin your complexion." __I like the grey and brown__ We head back to the same Men's Shop we went to yesterday. I start tossing shirts and ties at him as soon as we get there. "Try those on while I find the perfect slacks and shoes."

**Greg**

"Sherlock, I'm going to need an extra suitcase if you keep buying me clothes." I say a bit too firmly. "I've got something for tonight," I hold up the bag from the earlier stop.

**Sherlock**

I roll my eyes. "Fine. Just shoes then." He quickly grabs a brown pair of loafers out of the line I've been making of possibilities.

**Greg**

"These then. They go with tonight's outfit, they look comfortable, and I'm tired of shopping."

**Sherlock**

"It's Mycroft's money and I'm not allowed to buy anything absolutely unneeded for myself but you can." The stupid deal we made is the only thing stopping me from buying out the entire store even though I wouldn't be caught dead in most of these clothes.

**Greg**

"Not allowed to buy anything for yourself?" I think for a moment. "What if I bought you something? Something I think you absolutely have to have?" I grin slyly.

**Sherlock**

I grin at him and clap my hands. "Yes. I need all the things."

**Greg**

I look at my watch. "We've got a couple more hours." I look him up and down. "I would love to see you in something silk." I purr. "Or maybe see you out of it."

**Sherlock**

I eye him wearily. "Such as... Silk what?"

**Greg**

"Maybe a dressing gown. Or boxers. Yes, boxers." I smile to myself at the mental picture. "Let's pick something out and have it sent to the hotel. You can model it for me later."

**Sherlock**

"Where do you want to go get these?" I have been leading him around the island most of the trip.

**Greg**

"I think I saw something at a shop back up the way. I have been paying attention, you know." I wink at him. I grab him by the hand and head back to the shop.

**Sherlock**

"I'll trust you. I am picky about my clothes." This will be a good test for Greg. "However, never try to buy me socks."

**Greg**

"I may not have your fashion sense, love, but I know what I like." We enter a small shop he'd skipped previously. The display window shows several mannequins in lacey lingerie, so at a glance, it appears to be a store for ladies' things, but I note in the back there is an assortment of men's items, as well. I select a black silk dressing gown - simple, elegant, perfect for him.

**Sherlock**

Many times, he becomes aroused by the feminine lingerie and apparel. After he chooses a garment I check it out. Soft. Fluid. Flattering. __better than expected. how would a DI k ow about quality in undergarments?__ "This will do nicely. Thank you."

**Greg**

I grab a matching pair of boxers and take them to the girl at the cash register, opening my wallet for the black card. "Ahem, dear..." I put out my hand and look at Sherlock.

**Sherlock**

"Her or me?" I smile broadly. After a moment or three of him silently staring at me I return the card.

**Greg**

"Rascal." I chuckle as I had the clerk the card to pay for the purchase. I give her instructions to have them packaged and delivered to our suite at the hotel for later.

**Sherlock**

"You two were eyeing each other up. You should know she has three kids. All of them under two years old. That would be a big commitment."

**Greg**

"Don't be paranoid, Sherlock." I shake my head at him. "Not interested anymore. I've told you that."'

**Sherlock**

"Maybe you weren't interested but she was." Of course she was as equally interested in me or any foreigner with a black card or even just the black card.

**Greg**

"Let's head to the meeting point... maybe grab a drink on the way?" I put my arm around his waist again.

**Sherlock**

Dinner does sound good. "You choose dear husband mine."

**Greg**

"How about that little restaurant on the pier? It's about a 5 minute walk from there to the shop, which would give us a good 45 minutes to eat."

**Sherlock**

"The one with the weird food on the small plates? Or the Seafood one next to it?" Those plates were interesting but dreadful.

**Greg**

"The seafood place. I'd love to try some ceviche."

**Sherlock**

As we walk towards the restaurant I notice a small shop with hand blown glass. One of the figures is a bee. I make a note to come back here later. On the way I amuse myself my nicking Greg's wallet with fake ID, hotel card, and watch.

**Greg**

As we are seated and handed menus, I look over the various options. "You are going to give those back, right?" I ask quietly, without looking up from the menu.

**Sherlock**

I hand him the wallet and watch. "Just checking your perception and awareness. If you're going to be -flirting- with a smuggler I want to know you can handle yourself."

**Greg**

I huff. "There's got to be a less annoying way to do that than picking my pocket." The waiter returns, and I order for both of us, in French.

"I ordered a couple of appetizers - we can share them. They will be faster than ordering a full meal." I explain to him as the waiter takes the menus and leaves. "We don't want to be late for our appointment, after all."

**Greg**

The waiter returns fairly quickly, with ceviche and little sandwiches with curried chickpeas and flatbread, and two extra plates so we can share, as well as two glasses of fruit juice.

**Sherlock**

"I rarely eat during cases." I push my plate away but end up taking small nibbles off of his.

**Greg**

"You're not eating much, but you need to eat something." I insist, putting a sandwich and a spoonful of ceviche on his plate.

**Sherlock**

"No." He squints his eyes a bit. "No... Thank you? Why are you looking at me like that?" I grab one of the rolls out of the bread basket and start tearing it apart.

**Greg**

"I'm not looking at you. Looking at the guy at the bar. He seems to be paying an inordinate amount of attention to us." I reply quietly. "Probably best if you at least pretend to eat something... like you are out for dinner with your husband..."

**Sherlock**

"Describe him." I take a small bite of the ceviche off his plate.

**Greg**

"Medium build, dark hair, wearing a jacket and a ball cap. Near the end of the bar. Not drinking, though."

**Sherlock**

Unable to turn around, that would tip him off, I rely on Greg's assessment as a DI and fairly perceptive person. "Ball cap in this restaurant. It's likely he wants you to see him. Does he look like an American? English? French?"

**Greg**

"I'm guessing French, or at least with a decent command of the language. He certainly is trying to chat up the bartender, and I know she doesn't speak English." I take a bite of ceviche. "I'm guessing someone wanted to make sure we were going to be on time tonight."

**Sherlock**

Just as I'm about to remark on the possibility of him being Interpol I realize exactly what Greg said. "How do you know she doesn't speak English?"

**Greg**

"I talked to her earlier today at one of the shops. She is the one who recommended this restaurant, actually.

**Sherlock**

"Indeed." Wiping my hands off I stand up and head for the restroom. I happen to pass by the Bartender and who I know now is -not- any form of law enforcement.

**Greg**

I shake my head as Sherlock stalks off. _If I wasn't so stuck on him, his suspicious nature would drive me mad_ I look over the dessert menu with feigned interest, while keeping an eye on our observer in my peripheral vision.

**Sherlock**

While in the loo I tried to figure out why I was so jealous. This is a new feeling to me and I don't like it. Then it hits me... I've never had a someone before and now that I do I don't want to lose him. With this knowledge in mind I bypass the Spy and the Bartender without investigating them. Well, not investigating them too much. "I'm sorry." I don't have the words to tell him what goes on in my head. "I'll do better. Please don't leave me over this."

**Greg**

I reach across the table and take his hand as he sits back down. "You're not going to be rid of me that easy, Sherlock." I smile and rub my thumb over the top of his hand. "But you have to learn to trust me."

**Sherlock**

"I trust you." I truly do. "I don't trust them." Thankfully this uncomfortable conversation needs to end for now so we can head to the rendezvous.

**Greg**

"Trust me. There's nothing anyone else can say or do that would change how I feel about you." I kiss his knuckles, and return to the food in front of me. "Now finish up your food, and we'll get moving."

**Sherlock**

My plate has mysteriously acquired food and migrated back to in front of me. I move the food around hoping he'll believe I ate something of it. "It's time."

**Greg**

I spear a shrimp off his plate and hold it in front of his mouth, glaring at him. "You have to eat at least one."

**Sherlock**

"I've eaten." I fold my arms across my chest.

**Greg**

"Liar. Eat this one."

**Sherlock**

"I had bites of yours." I don't budge a bit.

**Greg**

"I helped raise my sister's kids... I know how this works. You can't move the food around to make me think you ate some.  Eat this one shrimp, and I'll leave you be."

**Sherlock**

"The ceviche was mediocre and juice was sour. Why must I subject myself to more of this cr---" I chew the shrimp he shoves in my mouth with malice in my eyes. "You'll pay for that."

**Greg**

I smile at him sweetly. "I'm sure I'm looking forward to it." I set down the fork and get to my feet. "It's time for us to go now, dear." I wait for Sherlock to get to his feet, noting that the man at the bar is hurriedly finishing his drink and trying to flag down the bartender for his bill.

**Sherlock**

Unhappy with his boyish grin I glare at him the whole way outside. "I am not a toddler."

**Greg**

"Scold me later. Let's go." I grab his hand a bit roughly and lead the way to the rendezvous point.

**Sherlock**

Not wanting to look like a 6-foot toddler (as the Americans say) I catch up and walk beside him. "We will be dealing with a Criminal Mastermind. It may be best if you stay silent."

**Greg**

"We're going to have to play this by ear. We will do what we need to do." I give his hand a squeeze as I tap lightly on the door to the shop. The clerk from earlier in the day answers the door, and after looking around nervously, pulls us inside.


	14. Chapter 14

**Sherlock**

I see the shorter, fatter version of Mycroft before he ushers us in. "Why are we here?" He looks remarkably different than his profile picture. Shorter. Fatter. Mycroftier.

**Greg**

I repeat Sherlock's question in French.

**Sherlock**

"Don't bother husband dear. I believe he speaks English." I turn towards the pint-sized minion. "Why are we here?"

**Greg**

"I'm sure Mr. Andrews has summoned us for a very good reason. Haven't you, Sebastian?"

**Seb Andrews**

"You seemed interested in the finest quality gems. We recently received a shipment of some rare stones and thought you would want to see them." The posh half of the newlyweds barely acknowledges me. The Silver Fox is all that interests me though. I motion for Phillippe to come over.

**Phillippe**

I walk over to the pretty boy. "Come take a look at some of the settings we have, while your husband looks at the stones." I take his hand and lead him to the far side of the room, motioning for him to take a seat on the sofa. I collect a tray of silver rings and sit alongside him.

**Sherlock**

"I was told you only spoke French." I had known he was fluent in English as well but had no expectations to hear him speak it.

**Phillippe**

"My mother tongue is French, of course, but Mr. Andrews has taught me English. It can be useful to know another language, yes?" I wink at him.

**Sherlock**

I move to sit a bit further from him since he sat close enough that our legs were touching. "Yes. Very." I look over to see how Gregory is getting along with Andrews. It's obvious now that Phillippe's shop is no more than a facade for the enterprise and he is a puppet.

**Phillippe**

"Your husband is a very lucky man. There's not a piece of jewelry on the island as pleasing to the eye as you are, mon cher." I smile at him. "I could get lost in your eyes alone."

**Sherlock**

"Yes. Very. Thank you." Andrews is touching Greg's arm and laughing, rather falsely, about something. "Do you know what they're doing over there?"

**Phillippe**

"Mr. Andrews wanted your husband to see some of our most recent shipment of stones. Higher quality than our regular stock." I lean in close and lower my voice. "Not as much... how do you say... red tape."

**Sherlock**

"Interesting. Tell me more." Somehow the old codger has gotten too close again so I scoot back a bit more.

**Phillippe**

I put my hand on the posh man's knee. "My shop was failing. Mr. Andrews owns the curio shop on the corner. He offered me a deal. He would supply me with high-end gemstones, and I could keep this shop."

**Sherlock**

"Do you have any wine? I would just love a glass." I smile at him and tap his hand that's on my knee.

**Phillippe**

"But of course. Where are my manners? I will only be a moment." I stand up and disappear into the other room for a moment, returning with two glasses of chilled white wine. I hand one to the young man before resuming my seat alongside him.

**Sherlock**

I take a sip and place the cold glass where his hand was previous to him getting up. "Which setting do you recommend?"

**Phillippe**

I set down my glass, and return my attention to the silver rings. "Normally, I would suggest white gold over silver, but if it silver you want..." I gently slip the wine glass from his hand and set it on the table, taking his hand in mine. I look at his hand, his fingers, turning his hand over to look at it approvingly. "You are a musician?"

**Sherlock**

"Phillippe, I'm flattered, but I'm newly married to a wonderful man who I -think- the world of." I say think loud enough that Greg should be able to hear me. I can't go as far as pull my hands from his without possibly upsetting a deal.

**Phillippe**

"Of course, of course, my apologies." I stammer, letting go of his hand quickly. I return my attention to the rings, selecting a plain silver one. "What do you think of this, mon cher? With an embedded stone, it would be quite elegant."


	15. Chapter 15

**Seb Andrews**

As Phillippe leads the posh git away I take the pretty one over to the gems. "Good deal today. Hot price."

**Greg**

_At least if Phillippe is keeping Sherlock occupied, he won't be able interfere if I have to flirt a bit with Andrews_ I shudder at the thought. "I'm definitely interested in seeing what you have to offer, Mr. Andrews."

**Seb Andrews**

"I have much to offer you Mr Cumberbatch. Come with me. Phillippe will -entertain- your young husband. He mentioned he had tried to trade you for him. I told him that was not acceptable." I pull out the first tray of gems. "Besides what would a man that old do with a boy so young." I laugh at the idea of those two together. Me and the Fox however... That would be no laughing matter.

**Greg**

"I doubt he would convince my husband to such a trade," I laugh. "He's a bit... possessive, shall we say." I look at the tray of gemstones. To the naked eye, they look to be excellent quality. Andrews hands me a large emerald, and I casually pull a loupe out of my pocket to examine it more closely. "How are you able to get such high quality stones?"

**Seb Andrews**

I'm pleasantly surprised to see him pull out a jeweler's tool. "A cousin salvages them from antique shops, estate sales, the like. So few people are aware of what they actually have." I put my hand on his arm as I lean in as if I'm looking at the emerald as well.

**Greg**

I look up when he puts his hand on my arm to find myself looking right into his steel-blue eyes. "Mr. Andrews..."

**Seb Andrews**

"Sebastian. Seb to friends."

**Greg**

"Sebastian..." I say slowly. "Forgive me if I find it hard to believe that you're finding these in antique shops and estates sales. Gemstones of this quality are exceedingly rare to find in the open market, especially unmounted."

**Seb Andrews**

"Oh but I'm not the one that finds them. I find the buyers." With my hand still on his bicep I turn and grab a small tray of diamonds. "We have a few pink diamonds as well as same rare cut ones. Maybe you, Greg, can tell me which ones are the best. Sometimes it's not looks that count. You need more. Character, cut, someone, err thing, with a bit of colour." My hand has slid up a few centimeters to his shoulder.

**Greg**

I laugh nervously as his hand creeps along my arm. "Really, Sebastian..."

**Seb Andrews**

"I know you are a rich man, Gregory, and you have expensive tastes..." I lean closer to whisper. "But I could be -persuaded- to give you a sweet deal."

**Greg**

"Could you, now?" I smile at him seductively. If I were single and unattached, and Seb weren't the head of a criminal smuggling ring, things would be different - he's not hard on the eyes, that's for sure. "And just how should I persuade you?"

**Sherlock**

"I'm not too easy to please but there are a few simple things I could think of... Maybe we should take this to the back room where we won't be interrupted." A glance at Phillippe shows me the man is making every teenage move on the Posh Prince as possible.

**Greg**

"I don't know..." I glance over at Sherlock, who at least so far is fending off Phillippe's advances. That old ghost of jealousy starts gnawing at the back of my mind... my ex certainly did me no favors in that department. _Sherlock's not like her..._ I remind myself sternly, as Seb takes my hand and starts to lead me to another room. "Wait..." I start to protest.

**Seb Andrews**

I stop when he tugs my hand. "Wait...? For what?" Sherlock is obviously focused on Phillippe and won't even notice us leaving. "Problem?"

**Greg**

"I... my husband..." I say tentatively, unable to stop staring at Sherlock and Phillippe for several reasons.

**Seb Andrews**

"Yes. Your husband. What about him?" I step into his space and place my hand on his chest. "I'm not the three-some kind if that's what you're saying." Maybe I could be talked into it if his husband wasn't such a breakable piece of porcelain ready to break at any time. Eww.

**Greg**

I put my hand on Seb's chest and push him back firmly. "Look, _Mr. Andrews_ ... I'm not interested if that's your price." I turn as I hear Sherlock's voice increase in volume, and see Phillippe practically scurrying away from him.

**Seb Andrews**

"I think you misunderstood me." I briefly wonder if I said my thoughts out loud but my jaw is still intact so I'm sure I didn't.

**Greg**

I put my hands on my hips and glare at him. "Oh? What did you mean, then? Because it sure seemed like you were willing to negotiate a good price based on what favors you could get from me..."

**Seb Andrews**

"You seemed willing before." __what happened? he was on board just a moment ago_ "If you want I could be the one performing the favors."

**Greg**

I admit, a tiny part of my brain is tempted, but I look over at Sherlock and immediately shut that brain cell down. "No, I wasn't. You don't have anything worth risking my marriage for."

**Seb Andrews**

"He'll never know unless you tell him. Simply don't tell him." Phillippe is kneeling at The Princess’ feet with his head almost in the git’s lap. "He seems to have no problem with a bit of fun amongst friends."

**Greg**

That jealous brain cell flares up again. _No..._ I stare at Sherlock angrily, then collect myself. "I still say no. You've not shown me anything worth the risk."

**Seb Andrews**

I walk back to the table with the gems. "Have you decided on anything? Or are you still looking?" I put on my fake assistant smile.

**Greg**

"You are asking too much for gems of sub-par quality and questionable history.  Perhaps if you get something worth my time and money, you should call me."

**Seb Andrews**

"Let me make some calls. Can you return tomorrow evening? I have what you're looking for but not here."

**Greg**

I shrug, acting only slightly interested. "All right. One more chance, then. Same time?"

**Seb Andrews**

"Splendid. You won't regret it. I have two in mind but I already know the one you'll pick." I give him a wink. "But it never hurts to inspect your other options."

**Greg**

I nod and take a deep breath, walking toward Sherlock.

"Let's go, my dear..."

**Sherlock**

I continue to poke at the old man’s head in my attempts to dislodge him from my lap. Short of pushing him, again, I don't see any other option. "I need help. More accurately -he- does." I continue to poke him.

**Greg**

"Um... Mr. Andrews... a little help here?" I put my arms around Phillippe's not inconsiderable chest and pull him out of Sherlock's lap. "Your assistant seems to have dozed off..."

**Seb Andrews**

"He can take care of himself. He likes to imbibe quite a bit of the drink. That's how he almost lost this shop. Drop him there and let him sleep it off." Old idiot would be homeless and penniless now if it wasn't for my generous offer. "Sometimes I'm just too kind."

**Greg**

I help Sherlock to his feet, unbelievably relieved that what I thought I saw (and what Seb wanted me to see) wasn't really what I'd seen. "Mr. Andrew's will have a new shipment coming in tomorrow evening for us to look at." I nod to him quietly.

**Sherlock**

"Oh. Goody. Can't wait." My tone is as dry as sand paper as I glare at Graham. "Can we go now?"

**Greg**

I bid Seb good night, and take Sherlock by the arm, almost dragging him from the shop. The moment we step outside, I hear the door close solidly, and the lock engage, followed by a fair amount of yelling by Seb, presumably attempting to wake Phillippe. "He sure is an insistent one, that Andrews character," I say nervously as we head back up the road.

**Sherlock**

Hmpf "Insistent. Is that what that's called?"

**Greg**

"Hey, now, I'm not the one who had another man's head in my lap, Sherlock..."

**Sherlock**

"He was passed out drunk. He needed both doses to finally make him sleep. -BOTH!-" My legs being a bit longer I walk faster than Geoff.

**Greg**

I have to jog to keep up with the long-legged git. I grab his arm and pull him to a halt. "From where I sat, I couldn't tell. I admit, I got jealous. I spent half that conversation with Seb trying to convince myself that you wouldn't do that to me, and the other half trying to convince him that I wouldn't do that to you..."

**Sherlock**

"What I saw was him feeling you up and you two holding hands! I may be new to this stuff," I make hand motions from me to him and back, "but I'm not new to reading people."

**Greg**

"Phillippe was all but in your lap. They were both trying awfully hard to distract us, that's for damn sure."

**Sherlock**

"He -was- in my lap. If you hadn't been so busy playing with mini-Myc maybe you would've at least tried to fix that."

**Greg**

I turn bright red. "WHAT?"

**Sherlock**

"I needed you. I wouldn't have had to drug him if you had simply came over and told him to stop. I couldn't force him to quit without blowing our cover." My voice is low and quietly deranged. "His head fell into my lap when he passed out. I had been trying to get him to move for a while before you could finally tear yourself away from your fan." There's a growl in my tone. "At least tell me you made a purchase so we can be done with all this."

**Greg**

My face falls. "No, I didn't. He's got another shipment coming in tomorrow - with something he swears I'll want. We need to intercept that shipment, or at least give your brother the information so he can, and we'll be finished with this." I put a hand on his shoulder. "Look, I'm sorry. I was trying to get the information we needed, and didn't see that you were in trouble." I feel terrible.

**Sherlock**

"You need to make the purchase before we can turn them over to Mycroft. We'll still follow them but a purchase would seal the case." I start to deflate in misery. "Are you in that much of a hurry for this to be over?"

**Greg**

"I don't want to be around that Andrews character any more than absolutely necessary... he's creepy." _And a little tempting, but not really_ "I know me being around him bothers you, and I don't want to do that to you."

**Sherlock**

"I can tell you want him. He wants you." _don't lie to me Gregory_ "I can also tell when you're skirting the truth." With a sigh I continue walking.

**Greg**

"Wait a minute, 'Lock..." I catch him and stop him again. "I am yours. No one else's. Andrews is a criminal mastermind, but he can't seduce me that easily.  Please... don't give up on me. I know what it's like... and I'd never do that to you."

**Sherlock**

__he's telling the truth__ "Promise you won't give up on me either...?"

**Greg**

"Definitely not." I lean up and give him a peck on the lips. "Let's go back to the hotel, yeah?"

**Sherlock**

"Absolutely. We need to fix one little problem first." I crowd his space til he is backed up against the display window of a closed shop. I put my hands to either side of his head and grind against him. "You smell like him." Andrews must bathe in that cologne. "Not acceptable."

**Greg**

"First thing, then - a shower?"

**Sherlock**

"Mmmm. No." I lean in to kiss him but go to his neck instead. I keep grinding against him and him into the window. As I contemplate all the ways I could tease him the security alarm goes off startling both of us.

**Greg**

I chuckle. "OK, somehow, I think getting arrested should not be part of our grand plan," I grab his wrist and drag him along down the street.

**Sherlock**

"Oohhhh. I haven't been detained here even once. Don't you want to get locked in a cell with me?" I try to fake a pout as I laugh.

**Greg**

"I'd rather handcuff you myself." I purr in his ear.

**Sherlock**

"I'd rather you have your hands free so you can fuck me into the bed."

**Greg**

"Oh, my hands will be free." I push him up against a nearby building. "Yours might not be." I nuzzle against his neck.

**Sherlock**

I purr at his attention. "Where would they be?"

**Greg**

"For me to know..." I grin up at him. "Now let's get back to the hotel before we get arrested for indecency."

**Sherlock**

Sadly there is a lack of taxis on streets who's businesses are closed for the night. However I do see one thing that's promising. "The idiot from the bar is in a car behind us." I grin at Gregory. "Want to see if we can shake him?"

**Greg**

I love it when he gets that mischievous look on his face. "What do you have in mind?"

**Sherlock**

"RUN!" I grasp his hand and we start running down the street til we find an alley to cut through.

**Greg**

I manage to keep up with him, as we cut through several back alleys so the car can't easily follow. We duck into a vacant warehouse to catch our breath, and I start giggling.

**Sherlock**

"Brilliant!" Even short of breath and laughing uncontrollably I am still in awe of Greg's want of me. "You're beautiful like that."

**Greg**

"Like what? Giggling like a school girl because we just ran through a maze of back alleys to hide from a smuggler?" I lean on my knees to catch my breath.

**Sherlock**

"Yes." I nod and slide down against a wall.

**Greg**

Finally catching my breath, I wonder aloud, "I bet Andrews is calling him right now about the next shipment."

**Sherlock**

"Oh. Do you think we made him angry running away like that?" I chuckle as I help Gregory to his feet.

**Greg**

I shrug. "Probably. He might be a little more careful tomorrow. But I'm sure we'll be able to spot him."


	16. Chapter 16

**Sherlock**

Thanks to an innate sense of direction we ended up very close to our hotel. As we pass the lounge I see our Spy-in-Training sitting at a side table. "He'll never make it past basic training at this rate."

**Greg**

I barely glance at the man as we head to the lift. Once we're inside, I chuckle. Wouldn't it be funny if he were staying in this hotel, too?"

**Sherlock**

"How do you feel about going back to the lounge and getting dessert?" The idea of giving him something to spy on is almost impossible to resist

**Greg**

"I was sort of planning on having you for dessert, but I suppose we can get something in the lounge..." I nip his neck.

**Sherlock**

I try not to pout out a bit. “Can't we do both?”

**Greg**

"All right... if you insist. But you have to actually eat something if I order it for you." I smack his arse with a grin and hit the lift button to take us back downstairs.

**Sherlock**

"Be prepared to order dessert then." I feel an evil glee come over me as I think of all the things we can get away with as the Hotels Newlyweds.

**Greg**

As soon as the lift doors open, I grab Sherlock's hand and we head to the lounge, nonchalantly walking right past our spy-friend to take a table across the room. The waiter hands us the late-night dessert menu. "Pick whatever looks interesting, love," I say.

**Sherlock**

"Let’s have the Newlywed’s Dessert platter shall we? The wine sampler as well." I hand the menus back to the waiter. Gregory is sitting next to me instead of across the table. "Is it normal to sit so close? I see couples all the time and they sit across from each other." __it's because I'm special__ I point out the few couples and their arrangements.

**Greg**

"Do you want me across from you?" I raise an eyebrow, as my hand rubs his thigh under the table.

**Sherlock**

"No!" I say it louder than I wanted to. "No." I say much quieter. "I like you where you are." I lay my hand on his thigh. "Right next to me."

**Greg**

"Good." I give him a peck on the cheek. The waiter comes back with a tray of assorted fruit, with small dishes for dipping - whipped cream, chocolate sauce, a lemon cream cheese dip, and honey. I dip a strawberry into the chocolate sauce and hold it to Sherlock's lips. "You promised you'd eat..."

**Sherlock**

I make a show of licking the chocolate off first then eating the berry. I dip my finger in the honey and place it on his lips before I move in to kiss him. "Does that count as eating twice?"

**Greg**

"Mmm... noPe." I pop the P just like he does. "Licking isn't the same as eating." I offer him a piece of mango with whipped cream on it.

**Sherlock**

"Really? What's the difference? Does that apply to blow jobs as well?" So many things to learn. __such a good teacher__

**Greg**

"I remind you of the difference later, hm?" I whisper in his ear.

**Sherlock**

"How...? Can one actually eat their partner?" I take a sip from the Champagne. "Interesting." I bring my hand higher up his thigh til the pads of my fingers are over the tip of his cock.

**Greg**

"Behave yourself." I nip his ear lobe, trying to distract both of us from what his hand is doing. I give his thigh a stroke and a squeeze. "We have to finish our dessert, or you won't get dessert later..." I wink at him

**Sherlock**

"Excuse me, waiter. Box please." Once I'm aware I had gotten his attention I turn back to Greg, cup my hand, and run it up the length of his member. "Let’s do both."

**Greg**

He's got that mischievous sparkle in his eye again. "I do like the way you think sometimes." I chuckle as the waiter quickly packages up the fruit and sauces - and a bottle of champagne - for us with a knowing smile.

**Sherlock**

We get to the lift just as its closing. I almost burst out laughing when I see we are sharing the car with our novice spy.

**Greg**

I notice the man in the lift with us, looking very much like a deer in the headlights as I smile at him. Sherlock chooses that moment to 'notice' a bit of chocolate on my lip and wastes no time in trying to kiss it away, as our observer turns positively crimson. One floor before ours, the young man practically flees the lift, leaving us alone.

**Sherlock**

"Think he noticed?" I start to laugh as hard as I did when we ran from him.

**Greg**

"You are a rascal," I grin at him. "Get your posh arse into our room, right now." I grab his arse just as the lift door opens, and we manage to navigate the hallways without dropping anything and without our lips ever parting.

**Sherlock**

The door is hard to open with both my hands occupied. "Open it or I'll do wicked things to you in the hallway."

**Greg**

"Promises, promises..." I chuckle as I run the key card through to door lock, wrenching the door open. We practically fall into the room with a giggle.

**Sherlock**

We stagger a few steps until we right ourselves. "What... No show for the neighbors?" I toss the box of fruit to the counter as I get a bottle opener for the Champagne. "Is voyeurism not a DI thing or not a Gregory thing?"

**Greg**

"I prefer to watch, not be watched." I wink at him. "Exhibitionism has never been my thing." I take the bottle of champagne from him and make quick work of the foil while he finds a pair of glasses.

**Sherlock**

"My education did not include porn. I didn't bother investigating further than part A goes in to part B, C, or D." My search for flutes appears pointless.

**Greg**

"So you know the facts, not the finesse. Gives me something to teach you." He follows me onto the balcony and pop the cork from the champagne bottle, the sparkling liquid cascading down the side. I move quickly to catch a mouthful.

**Sherlock**

"I have an excellent teacher." I take his hand and put his fingers in my mouth one by one to clean them of the spilt liquor.

**Greg**

"I'd like to think so." Watching him suck the remnants of the champagne off my fingers is a hell of a turn-on... like I need more encouragement. I pull my fingers from his mouth and put my lips in their place as I maneuver him toward one of the lounge chairs on the balcony.

**Sherlock**

I gracefully, and no one will ever say differently, land in the patio chair with Greg on top of me. His knee ended up between my legs instead of somewhere important for which I am thankful.

**Greg**

"So... how did you plan to spend the rest of the night?" I smile against his neck as I start working through his buttons.

**Sherlock**

"I was promised to be fucked so hard the bed might break." This position, and every other position tonight, causes the plug to grind against my prostate. "Now if only I could remember who it was that said that..."

**Greg**

"Actually, I believe I said I'd fuck you until you couldn't remember your name." I peel the shirt off him.

**Sherlock**

"William. Sherlock. Scott. Holmes. Seems you're failing in your mission." I lift my arms so he can take my shirt off. I take a swig from the bottle as I pass it from one hand to the other.

**Greg**

"Hmmm... barely gotten started." I take the bottle from him and take a swig myself, setting the half-empty bottle on the ground beside us. I stroke my hands up his chest, admiring the view.

**Sherlock**

"Maybe you should hurry uP." I pluck his buttons undone and pull his belt open.

**Greg**

"My, my, someone's impatient." I shift to get him out of his trousers, leaving him bare in the moonlight. "You look better than any dessert, you know..." I lick a stripe down his abdomen.

**Sherlock**

I grab the bottle and pour some down his back. "Oops. Now you're all wet. Maybe you should finish getting out of those clothes of yours."

**Greg**

I snarl at him playfully. "What a waste of perfectly good champagne..." I grab the bottle back from him and dribble some down his chest, chasing after it with my lips.

**Sherlock**

I arch my back as it slides down to my hip. "Ugh. Get naked already!" __brat. I know he's doing this on purpose.__

**Greg**

I chuckle as I tease him, sucking away the champagne pooled in his navel. After paying far too much attention to his navel - and deliberately avoiding his cock, despite his best efforts - I get up off the lounge and strip off my champagne-soaked shirt.

**Sherlock**

"One would almost think you're shy." I lounge back as he undresses. "You have nothing to be shy about." Placing my hands on the side of the chair for leverage, I jump at him and lift him up.

**Greg**

"I'm not shy..." I grumble. "Just... we're outdoors. Not really my element, you know." I wriggle away from him playfully.

**Sherlock**

I set him down by the sofa when he started to wiggle. "Yet you had no problem with me being naked. Interesting. What is your element, Gregory Lestrade?"

**Greg**

"I'd rather have my way with you in a nice warm, private bed." I stroke my hands down his sides and pull him close. "Any complaint?"

**Sherlock**

"One or two but I can let them pass for now." I strut to the bed then flop down on it. "Why are you -still- dressed?! Hop to it old man." I chuckle at his expression.

**Greg**

"If it bothers you so much, undress me." I smirk at him, my arms folded across my chest.

**Sherlock**

"I tried. A few times." I start to stroke myself as I watch him quasi-pout.

**Greg**

"Pouring champagne on me isn't undressing me... it's trying to convince me to do it myself." I climb onto the bed next to him. "Wouldn't you rather I take care of that for you?" I whisper in his ear, sucking his earlobe gently between my lips.

**Sherlock**

I pounce and pin him under me. "Every time I tried you side-tracked me. Not this time though." I pull his hands above him and have him grab the head rail of the bed. "Don't move." I kiss and lick my way down til I get to his open jeans. I crawl off the bed and, grabbing the fabric by his ankles, pull them off. "See. Much better."

**Greg**

"I do like the enthusiasm," I chuckle. I let go of the headboard and reach for him, to pull him back onto the bed. "Now get back here... I have plans for you."

**Sherlock**

"Tsk tsk. I told you not to move. Now what should no do with a partner who can't follow simple commands? Hmm." I fold my hands together so just the tips are touching. "What to do. What to do. Hmm."

**Greg**

I sit up and grab his wrists, pulling him toward me. "Maybe, just maybe, you can let me be in charge..."

**Sherlock**

I oomph when I hit the bed and raise an eyebrow at him. "And if I don't, DI? What then?"

**Greg**

"You might miss out on some important data." With a twist, I flip him onto his back beside me and straddle his hips, my hands planted firmly on his chest.

**Sherlock**

My eyes spark at the idea of more experiments. "Well. I'm waiting." I make the universal sign for hurry up. "Show me this data you talk of." I hope he's not getting too aggravated at my cocky attitude but I like how it riles him up.

**Greg**

I smooth my hands up his arms as I kiss his neck. "Patience, dear. I'm going to take my time with you..." my lips move down to his chest, my tongue grazing over first one nipple, then the other, earning me a barely-restrained whimper.

**Sherlock**

"Patience is not a virtue I possess." I thread my hand through his lush silver brown hair and tug him towards my abdomen.

**Greg**

I pull away from his hand with a smile. "You're going to learn." I move back up his chest, nuzzling against his neck, my hands rubbing along his shoulders, down his arms to his wrists. I kiss him roughly as I move his hands up toward the heardboard. "Let's see if you're better at following directions than I am, hm? Don't move." My eyes sparkle.

**Sherlock**

My eyes crinkle as I squint at him. "You make a terrible Scientist. Good thing you're a Detective." A naughty thought flashes about ignoring his request just to see how he would respond. "What if I don't listen, -Detective-? You going to cuff me? Lock me up?" His eyes flash with either delight or annoyance.

**Greg**

"Oh, I've considered cuffs, but I know you can get out of them." I lick along the curve of his ear. "But if you do as you're told - just this once - I'll make it worth your while."

**Sherlock**

I do my best to hold back a whine. "Maybe... It will take great restraint (pun not intended) to keep from touching you." I replay his words in my head and agree with gusto. "Will do Inspector." ___just this once__

**Greg**

"Good." I start working my way down his chest again, grazing my teeth over his pale, perfect skin, which still tastes faintly of champagne. I move lower, slowing as he tries to arch up under me.

**Sherlock**

I pout at his seductive teasing. "If you want me to stay still you need to move." Without thought my hand lets go of the rail to grab his hair but I catch myself in time. Hmpf

**Greg**

I smile, shaking my head silently. I continue my path, snaking my tongue along his abs and down to his hip bone, nipping at it as my hand smooths along the opposite hip. I look up to see his eyes are closed and he's fairly trembling with anticipation of what I might do next. I settle myself between his thighs. I rake my fingers very softly through the dark nest of hair around his cock, and take a few teasing licks.

**Sherlock**

I commit to memory every minute detail of this experience. The physical input, the feel of his dry lips, the smooth skin of his cheeks as he rubs his head against my abs, the warmth and wetness of his tongue, the confident way his hands move, so many things. "I believe I am in love with your mouth."

**Greg**

"Only gets better." I grin, licking his length slowly. I wrap my fingers around his cock and start to stroke him, continuing with the teasing licks around his head for a few minutes. My free hand smooths over his inner thigh, soon replaced by my lips.

**Sherlock**

I make fists around the bar I'm holding so that I won't reach out to him. "Please, Gregory. Do something. Ugh. Something more than what you're doing. I swear you will drive me crazy."

**Greg**

I nip his inner thigh, and he jumps. "I'm enjoying this... taking you apart..." I murmur against the sensitive skin, kissing over the mark I've left there.  "I'm having trouble deciding what I want to do next, to be honest." Without warning, I lean forward and take him deep into my mouth, my tongue working along his length as I pull back. I slip my free hand under him, squeezing one arse cheek, letting my pinky finger creep between them. "What should I do next, Sherlock?" I ask in a husky voice.

**Sherlock**

"Fuck!" The shock almost caused me to cum. "That. You should do that again. A lot."  I focus on my breathing to calm my body down. "Maybe a bit of warning next time."

**Greg**

"Now, where's the fun in that?" I smirk. I take him into my mouth again, sucking him deep.

**Sherlock**

"Fuck." I should've been prepared for the foxy imp to do that again but was not. "The fun is in not ending it too early." it is equally thrilling and annoying that he has more control over my body right now than I do. I open my eyes and see that grin I heard in his voice. His finger is just teasingly close enough to my arse hole that my focus is torn between it and the blow job. I look from him to the lube and back again.

**Greg**

I follow his eyes, and hum approvingly around his dick in my mouth, reaching toward the lube, which he obligingly hands to me. I put a liberal amount onto my fingers and spread some over his arsehole, pressing two fingers against the tight muscle.

**Sherlock**

"That doesn't count as not moving." I put my hand back on the bar as I place my feet firmly down on the bed. I open my legs as the vibration from his humming courses through me.

**Greg**

I slip my fingers into him slowly, stretching the muscle. I pull my mouth off him, returning to teasing licks. My own cock is in desperate need of relief, so I reach down and give myself a few strokes, hissing at the sensation of the still-cool lube on my skin. My strokes are in time with the movement of my fingers in his arse, and soon we've both panting with need. As promised, his hands remain on the headboard, but the rest of him is trembling and writhing under my attentions.

"Is it time now? I think it's time now. I'm ready. Very ready." His face is already tinged a bit red with effort of holding himself back.

**Greg**

I pull my fingers from him, and lean back. "You're sure about this, then?" I kiss the inside of his knee as I put the head of my cock against him.

**Sherlock**

"Of course I'm sure." I wrap my legs around him as I bend up to grab his shoulders to bring him closer to me. Instead of the expected kiss I gently bite his lip. "Are you ready?"

**Greg**

"So ready... you have no idea..." I breath against his lips as I slowly press into him.  By the time our hips meet, we're both shaking.

**Sherlock**

The stretch from his length and girth is only slightly uncomfortable but fades quickly. "Blame yourself for choosing to take so long." His eyes glow golden in the light reflected by the moon.

**Greg**

I chuckle darkly as I look into his eyes and hold perfectly still, savouring the sensation of him wrapped around me. I lean in and kiss him tenderly. With a little huff of frustration, he rolls his hips slightly, and I gasp in surprise. _Impatient bastard_ I grin to myself, obliging him with a hard thrust.

**Sherlock**

My nails dig into his shoulders as he pushes into me. "Mmm. Yes, that too. Another thing you should do a lot of and often." __lot often__ or often a lot?__ or SHUT UP Brain__

**Greg**

"My pleasure," I gasp against his neck. "Definitely." I continue pulling back slowly and thrusting in hard. Listening to the moans and whimpers coming from him is almost as good as the silky feeling of his body embracing me as I move. I have to concentrate to keep from coming right now.

**Sherlock**

My brain naturally starts categorizing and filing away data about temperature, distance, ambient lighting, all the completely unimportant things about this moment. When Greg sits up on his knees and hitches my hips onto his thigh my brain. finally. stops.  


Nothing. Just pleasure. Him, me, here, now, good. I look at him clearly for possibly the first time. "You’re..." __perfect? valiant? inspiring? what?? what is he??__ "you." A perfectly flawed complete person.

**Greg**

Sherlock's eyes soften as he looks up at me. I pull him up onto my lap and kiss him softly, my fingers raking through his thick hair.

**Sherlock**

This new position doesn't allow for much movement but it feels more intimate somehow. However I can feel both of us straining to hold it so I lay back down and take him with me. "Mine."

**Greg**

"Always..." I follow him down as he lays back, and thrust deeply. I shiver and press my forehead against his. "Always yours."

**Sherlock**

Mmhmm I am overcome with an urge to mark him somehow. To remove any possible traces FatCroft may have left. So I lean up and bite him right below his collar. Enough to leave a mark but not hurt. Not hurt too much.

**Greg**

I wince at the unexpected nip, then smile at him. "Now, now," I murmur against his neck. "Be nice." I start to slowly withdraw, but before I do so completely, I thrust back home roughly, raking my teeth along his collar bone.

**Sherlock**

"If I was nice you would think I was up to someth---" He slams back into me hard and fast. Just to pull out slowly and do it again. My nails claw at his shoulders for leverage but there's none to be had. I am completely at his mercy or not if he chooses.

**Greg**

I grab his wrists and pin his hands to the bed as I continue, alternating slow withdrawal with rough, deep thrusts. He starts to make another comment when I shut him up the most expedient way available - I kiss him, hard and long, until we have to part simply to breathe.  By the way he's squirming under me, I can tell I'm hitting his prostate exactly right.

**Sherlock**

I nip his lip as we part. He releases one of my hands to check if its bleeding. I use the opportunity to reach down to my cock and stroke it in the same almost rhythm he's using.

**Greg**

"Dammit..." I swear under my breath, releasing one of his wrists to feel just how hard he bit my lip. Once I'm satisfied that the injury is minor, I look down at him as he strokes himself, the blissed-out look on his face making me smile. I lean forward, resting my forehead on his shoulder as I continue pounding into him.

**Sherlock**

"You should... Fuck. You should... Know. Better." My body starts tensing up. I lift my mouth to his neck and try to bite again but his thrusts keep knocking me up higher on the bed. Finally, I have to return my hands to the head board just to keep from hitting it. The bang bang BANG and heavy breathing is amplified by the sound of skin on skin.

**Greg**

I feel him tensing up around me, and reach up and nip his shoulder hard.

**Sherlock**

The pain of his bite is the perfect trigger to my orgasm. I can feel my body go immobile to an explosion before completely relaxing.

**Greg**

He arches and cries out when he comes, and every muscle in him tightens impossibly. It's too much and I come just seconds after.

We both finally fall silent, the only sound in the room our heavy breathing. I gently kiss over the angry-looking mark on his shoulder.

**Sherlock**

"You have a new high score, Detective." I smirk when he rolls his eyes.

**Greg**

I chuckle and roll off him with a groan. I grab a couple of flannels from the bathroom to clean us up, and climb back into bed beside him. "I assume that means I performed adequately, then?" I say with a cheeky grin.

**Sherlock**

"Adequate to Exceeds Expectations. We will call this the base line." I yawn and stretch out over the entire bed. "It's sleep time now. Stop thinking so loud."

**Greg**

I nuzzle against his neck. "Mmm. Good to know." I curl up against him. "You did all right, yourself. Lots for you to learn, though." I kiss his ear.

**Sherlock**

I pout when he says that and turn my back to him. "Maybe I should find someone to practice with." Hmpf

**Greg**

I wrap an arm around his waist. "I thought you wanted me to teach you..." I murmur against the back of his neck.

**Sherlock**

"Sounded like you don't think I am good enough."  I snuggle back into him anyways.

**Greg**

"On the contrary," I reply. "I think you'll be a great student."


	17. Chapter 17

**Greg**

My peaceful sleep is broken by the Caribbean sun streaming through the open window. "Sherlock, love..." I nuzzle against him. "Time to get up. We have things to do today, you know..."

**Sherlock**

I roll on top of my bed mate and rub my head against his chest. "Tea." Even my sleep addled brain knows better than to ask for anything more complicated from his cooking skills.  _Good thing he's cute__

**Greg**

"We still need to get out of bed for that..." I wriggle under him, trying to extricate myself from the bed.

**Sherlock**

"No." The heat is making us sweaty and sticky but I don't want to release him. "Five more minutes..."

**Greg**

"You've got to let me up, Sherlock...  I promise to come right back"

**Sherlock**

"NoPe."

**Greg**

I groan in frustration, then lay my fingers softly on his ribs. "Do you REALLY want to do this?" I say with an impish grin.

**Sherlock**

"You wouldn't." There's no way he would actually...

**Greg**

"Wouldn't I?" I start tickling him mercilessly, until he moves enough that I can escape his clutches.

**Sherlock**

"Damn you Gregory Lestrade!" I yell to his retreating backside. "You will pay for that!" I flop over into the cool spot of the bed and pout. "And don't forget my tea!"

**Greg**

"Not going for tea, dear," I say over my shoulder as I close the bathroom door and turn on the shower.

**Sherlock**

Muttering to myself I reach for the hotel phone next to the bed. When it's answered, after for e v e r, I grumbling that we need tea and toast and whatever evil foxes eat before I hang up. Now that I'm awake I decide to join Graham in the shower after the morning priorities. "I hate you."

**Sherlock**

"No one should be that happy this early."

**Greg**

I pull him under the water with me and wrap my warms around his waist. "You don't hate me. I do wonderful things to you." I grin at him.

**Sherlock**

"Wonderful would involve not waking me up or at least having tea." I turn in his arms and dump a glob of shampoo on his head before I put some on mine.

**Greg**

"I didn't hear you complaining last night, anyhow," I kiss his jaw.

**Sherlock**

"Last night I was already awake." I wash the shampoo out and start on the conditioning process.

**Greg**

"True. I like to think I was worth staying awake for." I give his arse a squeeze before rinsing the shampoo out of my own hair. I lather up a flannel and start smoothing it over his shoulders and chest.

**Sherlock**

I lean my back into his chest as he washes me down. I do -not- purr (there is no proof) as he takes his time lathering me up. "Good thing you're sexy."

**Greg**

I chuckle as I feel the low rumble in his chest. "Mmm... glad you think so." Trying to keep from getting completely sidetracked, I comment, "So what is our plan for today?"

**Sherlock**

"Catch criminals. Make them confess. Save the Dragon from the evil Princess. Go home to Baker St. Wake up and do it again. I could make a business out of this. Become a Detective myself." The wheels start spinning about opening my own Consulting Business below my new Flat on Baker St. I get so caught up in my Mind Palace Baker St that I don't register the water has stopped or that breakfast has arrived until Greg has sat me down, dry, in a robe, with hot tea in front of me and a piece of toast in my hand.

**Greg**

"Sherlock" I hum, waving hot tea in front of him. "Who's going to make sure you eat and drink if you are off your own?"  I wonder to myself when he means when he's talking about Baker Street... obviously, he's thinking his little business venture will do very well, if he's considering a flat there.

**Sherlock**

I wave off his concerns. "Food is overrated. My Landlady, Mrs. Hudson, will keep the house clean and make me tea. No worries. There's plenty of takeaway nearby."

**Greg**

"And why, pray tell, would your brother consent to that?" I knew how protective of his little brother Mycroft is, and I can't imagine him having agreed to Sherlock's plan.

**Sherlock**

"Simple. I annoy him." I push the toast around the plate and drink the tea. "We made a deal."

**Greg**

I snort. _Imagine that... Sherlock annoying..._ "Eat some toast, then we'll head downstairs. I could do with a real breakfast."

**Sherlock**

I cock my eye brow. "You want me to eat so that we can go... eat?"

**Greg**

"I know full well you're not going to eat anything downstairs... you'll just sit there and stare at people while I eat. So I have to make sure you eat here, instead."

**Sherlock**

Pfft __dam him cause it's true__ "I told you. Food just gets in the way when I'm on a case." I watch him as he carefully lays out his outfit then gets dressed. It is the sexiest reverse strip tease the world, me that is, has ever seen.

**Greg**

"In our room, you're not on a case." I wink at him as I pull on my shirt. "You going downstairs in your robe, or you gonna get dressed? I'd rather not have to share you..."

**Sherlock**

I stand up and tighten my robe. "Since I was given a choice." I head for the door, but he stops me with a hand on my arm. "Wasn't really a choice, was it."

**Greg**

"No, dear, it wasn't." I point to the wardrobe. "Get dressed. Something you won't mind me tearing off you later would be brilliant."

**Sherlock**

I make an exaggerated hand motion to my robe. "I AM already wearing something like that."

**Greg**

"Yes, but we have work to do," I kiss him on the cheek. "Not going to get any work done if I am being continuously distracted by your fine naked arse." I grab the tie on his robe and pull him toward me.

**Sherlock**

I let him pull me into his space and wrap my arms around his neck. "Do you really need food? Can't we just call in sick? This case is boring. Barely a three."

**Greg**

"You made a deal with your brother, you said... I doubt staying in our hotel room shagging my brains out was part of said deal."

**Sherlock**

I step back and drop the robe to dress as quickly as possible. "Yes. Correct. Let’s go." I shimmy into a tight pair of slacks and a clingy green silk shirt. "Hurry up already." I slip on a pair of loafers as we leave the room.

**Greg**

We step into the lift, and I reach over to grab his hand, threading my fingers through his.

**Sherlock**

I look away so he doesn't see my smile. __this is nice__ __like real newlyweds__ When we get off and head to the restaurant I guide us to a somewhat private table in hopes of teasing him while he eats.

**Greg**

We take our seats and the table and I order tea for him, as well as coffee and a full breakfast for myself. As we wait, I comment quietly, "Seems our friend is having breakfast, too" I glance in the spy's direction, letting Sherlock follow my eyes to locate him. Just then, the man looks up and meets my eyes, and turns an impressive shade of crimson, looking away quickly.

**Sherlock**

"I wonder if he was privy to the sounds you caused the headboard to make." I dip my finger in the honey on his toast and lick it off. Out of the corner of my eye I see our nervous watcher blush even more brightly.

**Greg**

I blush a little. "Maybe. Though that wasn't the loudest sound we made, you know. I was half surprised security didn't show up." I chuckle to myself as the waitress brings my meal. I tuck into the food while Sherlock continues stealing bites from my plate.

**Sherlock**

"Newlyweds get special... Allowances." I wonder how loud -did- we get.

**Greg**

"Apparently. Good to know." I smirk over my coffee cup. "I _like_ hearing you.


	18. Chapter 18

**Seb Andrews**

I hum happily as I get ready to show the handsome Mr. Benedict the perfect jewel for his trophy husband. "Phillippe! Where's the ring I wanted?" __I swear if he lost it again...__

**Phillippe**

"I've got it right here, sir. You have a stone for it? I can take care of the mounting for you, if you want."

**Seb Andrews**

"Why else would I ask for the ring? Don't be an idiot." Normally I'm not as mean as today but I'm still annoyed that his behaviour with the Princess cost me a blow job last night.

**Phillippe**

_Damn, he’s cranky today_ "I don't know what's got you in such a mood. You're not the one who woke up with a screaming headache." I don't usually react that way to champagne... must've been because it wasn’t the cheap stuff I'm used to.  I hope I didn't embarrass myself too badly. I walk over to the table where he's looking through the stones from today's shipment. "Which one, do you think?"

**Seb Andrews**

I glance over at the options he brought me. Having no actual idea of what is quality when it comes to settings, I am a Gem Collector not someone who thinkers with metal, I shrug. "Whatever. Doesn't matter. He will love this stone so much it will be all he cares to look at."

**Phillippe**

"Did he say silver? Gold? I can do either..."

**Seb Andrews**

"Silver, gold, petrified puppy poop, doesn't matter." I hold Padparascha sapphire to the lamp and watch it appear to flicker with its own light.

**Phillippe**

"Well, taking a guess, I'd say that posh thing would prefer silver, so I'll do that. Hand me the stone you want and I can get started."

**Seb Andrews**

I hand over the fake jewel and leave to go get -well prepared- for tonight. "You have your plan set on how to keep His Highness occupied while I, hmm, show our buyer what he's getting?"

**Phillippe**

"I'll keep him out of your way this time, I promise." I take the stone and the ring and get to work.


	19. Chapter 19

**Sherlock**

Waking from our nap I look over at a sleeping Greg and wonder how long this will last before he tires of me. This truly is a honeymoon.

**Greg**

I feel Sherlock shift beside me. "What time is it?" I mumble, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

**Sherlock**

I pick up his arm to read his watch. "2:04 according to your watch." I drop his hand back down on the bed between us.

**Greg**

"We should get out of bed." I yawn, stretching like a cat.

**Sherlock**

"We should." I trace my hand up his ribs when he stretches. His giggle is definitely that, a giggle.

**Greg**

"No tickling!" I scoot away from his hands and sit up. "How long have you been awake, anyhow?"

**Sherlock**

I shrug. "Didn't sleep." Instead I ran through every possible scenario in which Gregory could get injured, killed, or have sex with the even Mycroftier looking FatCroft of a man we had to deal with.

**Greg**

I kiss him lightly on the lips, then climb out of bed. "Come on, then. We've got a little time to kill... we're supposed to meet Andrews at 4 o'clock. Maybe we could spend some time at the beach?" I ask hopefully.

**Sherlock**

"Boring. But I'll do it." If for no other reason then to see him in those small shorts again. I hop out of bed and get ready quickly.

**Greg**

We grab a couple of beach towels and the sunscreen and head down to the beach nearest the hotel. I leave Sherlock in charge of finding us a nice secluded spot while I run down to the water for a quick swim.

**Sherlock**

There's a spot far enough out of the way of foot traffic but close enough to the water for me to have the best view of Greg swimming. I set our towels on the lounges under the umbrella before I strip down to nothing, almost nothing.

**Greg**

After a nice leisurely swim, I head back to the beach, stepping out of the surf, shaking the salt water from my hair. My wet shorts cling to me, leaving little to the imagination as I head toward the loungers where Sherlock's waiting.

**Sherlock**

I glance up from my phone when he sits down next to me. "I had water brought for you." My second Caribbean Tea is almost finished.

**Greg**

I grab one of the towels to dry off a bit more, then flop onto the lounger beside him. "You have enough sunscreen on, love? Wouldn't want you to get a burn..." I start smoothing some of the lotion in myself.

**Sherlock**

"YuP. Pah-lenty." I suck the final remains of my drink as the adorable elf of a waitress brings two more. "Thank you, sweetheart. Such a dear. Isn't she a dear my dearest dear, dear?"

**Greg**

I look at him carefully. "Sherlock," I say with an edge of seriousness in my voice. "Just how many of those have you had?"

**Sherlock**

Hmmmm... The pretty little elf has walked away already so I can't ask her. "Two? Three?" I offer him a biscuit I bought from a man pushing a very colourful cart. "These. Are. Deee-lish."

**Greg**

"I think you need a glass of water, and no more biscuits." I take away the remaining biscuits and flag down the cocktail waitress, asking that she bring us a couple bottles of water instead.

**Sherlock**

"She's so cute. I swear if I wasn't already married, and not gay, and, and, nevermind." I drink the water dutifully and try to be seductive but there's a small hole in my bottle and it ends up dripping onto my chin.

**Greg**

I shake my head as he manages to spill half the water down his chest. "You are a mess... what am I gonna do with you?"

**Sherlock**

"Love me til death. We -are- married after all." I stand up and reach for his hand. "If you like me so much put a ring on me." I laugh at the wonderful play on words I did to the pop song I heard the precious elf singing.

**Greg**

"We've got an hour to sober you up a little, then we meet Andrews. Then you'll get your ring, and we'll get our smugglers"

**Sherlock**

"Pfft. I'm fine." __he is no fun at all__ "Let’s go find that man with the biscuits and get some for later. And another tea."

**Greg**

"NoPe. No more Caribbean Tea for you." I say sternly. I grab the towels, then reach for his hand. "Let's go for a walk."

**Sherlock**

"Fine. I didn't say we'd eat them now... I said lay-ter." I spot the guy with the cart and tug him that way. "He also sells water."

**Greg**

I keep hold of his hand as he drags me toward the food cart, and I let him buy a small bag of the biscuits (and another bottle of water). I drape a towel over his shoulders and we walk along the edge of the surf for a while.

**Sherlock**

"This is nice." The Sun is at our backs and feels gloriously warm. "Is this what a real honeymoon would be like with you?"

**Greg**

"Could be. Never had a real honeymoon before." I shrug. _This would be a perfect honeymoon... too bad it's not real_. We head back to the room to change, then start toward the jewelry shop.


	20. Chapter 20

**Phillippe**

"Welcome back, sirs! Come in, come in..." I hurry them into the air-conditioned shop, quickly closing the door behind them and flipping the 'open' sign to 'closed', so we won't be disturbed. I lead them to the sitting area. "Can I interest you in drinks? Perhaps a bite to eat?"

**Sherlock**

By the time the meeting begins I am back to normal if still a bit dizzy. "No. Thank you." Food would not be my friend right now.

**Greg**

The walk back to the hotel, and the volumes of water he's consumed have definitely helped clear his head - enough that I'm not worried about leaving him alone with Phillippe while I talk to Seb.

I walk up to Andrews and reach out to shake his hand. "So what do you have for us to look at?"

**Seb Andrews**

I hold his hand for just a beat longer than professional. "You are going to love what I am going to show you. If you're ready we can go the the, ahem, showing parlor."

**Greg**

I glance over at Sherlock, who is seated across from Phillippe. Sherlock is giving an excellent impression of someone who is fascinated by whatever tales Phillippe is telling him. I look back to Andrews and nod, following him into the other room.

**Seb Andrews**

"Right this way." I take him in to my fancy lounge and sit on the love seat before patting the spot beside me. "Can I offer you a drink?"

**Greg**

"Just water for me, thanks. It's been a long day." I take the seat beside him.

**Seb Andrews**

I pout a bit at his choice of drink. "Maybe I could tempt you with a nibble?"

**Greg**

"Yeah, sure." I say absently. "What I really want is to see some merchandise."

**Seb Andrews**

I pull out the cheese and fruit platter that I had prepared. "Why are you in such a hurry? I know Phillip has been eagerly waiting to entertain your dear husband."

**Greg**

"Yeah, Sherlock told me about Phillippe... a bit unwilling to take 'no' for an answer." I grab a grape from the platter and pop it into my mouth.

**Seb Andrews**

I gasp and pretend innocence. "No. Can't be. He's usually such a sweet old old man." Who should have given Princess his special drink by now.

**Greg**

"Yeah, well, old doesn't mean lack of interest." I grin a little. _Sherlock think's I'm old... he’ll think Phillippe is ancient._ "Especially when someone like Sherlock is around." I lean back on the sofa, nibbling on a bit of cheese.

**Seb Andrews**

"He is quite the prize. However, Phillippe has never hurt a soul and I just can't see him pushing if someone where to clearly say no." Not until I convinced him it truly is in his best interest to keep his highness occupied. I press a button in a remote and soft music starts to play.

**Greg**

I smile at him. "Why do I get the feeling you want more than my money?" I say, tracing a finger along his arm.

**Seb Andrews**

"Very observant Mr Cumberbatch." I pour some champagne for the both of us. "Actually, I think I may be persuaded to make a deal. If you know what I mean."

**Greg**

I look him up and down, as though I'm evaluating his body. "All right, then. Show me the gems first. Then, maybe," I run a finger along his jawline, "We'll make a deal."

**Seb Andrews**

I stand up and slightly exaggerate my hips when I go to get his ring. The lifts I'm wearing do wonders for my arse. "Not jewels, Gregory. May I call you that? Just the one perfect gem in the perfect setting."

**Greg**

"Gregory is fine. Let me see what you have... see if it's worth the price."

**Seb Andrews**

"It's definitely worth the price and a whole lot more." I sit very close to him with the ring on a jeweler’s cloth on my lap.

**Greg**

I look at the ring, not immediately seeing the stone, since it's set within the band. "May I?" I ask, reaching for the ring to look more closely.

**Seb Andrews**

"Feel free. I have no objections -what- -so- -ever-." I had placed the ring in such a way that he would be hard pressed to miss my interest in him.

**Greg**

I pick up the ring, narrowing avoiding the noticeable bulge beneath the jeweler's cloth. I turn it over in my fingers carefully, then pull my loupe out to take a closer look at the stone. "A Padparascha sapphire?" I ask.

**Seb Andrews**

I am shocked by his knowledge of precious stones. "Umm yeah I guess?" I had no idea that it was one of those named pieces.

**Greg**

"This is pretty pricey, for a little shop like this. How'd you lay hands on one of these, anyway?"

**Sherlock**

"I have people who bring me things they find. Usually Phillippe can pick up stones at antique shops since the owners are convinced it's costume jewelry." I put my hand on his knee. "The price -is- negotiable."

**Greg**

"People?" I raise an eyebrow. "And you buy these things from them?"

**Seb Andrews**

"A few. Cousins find these things and bring them to me. I pay a reasonable price which I then pass on to my more, discerning, customer." My hand travels a bit to his inner thigh just above the knee. "Enough about them..."

**Greg**

"Cousins, you say? So it's all a family business, then?" I lay my hand gently - but firmly - on his, stopping its path up my thigh.

**Seb Andrews**

"Family, yeah, that's it." It is a family of sorts. Cousins... Distant relatives... Barely known strangers... Same same.

**Greg**

"So, if you don't mind my asking... how much did a stone like this one run you? I might consider a set..."

**Seb Andrews**

"Oh don't worry you're pretty little head about the cost. As for a set, I will call my cousin in the morning."

**Greg**

"I'm not that naive, Seb... I need to know what you want for it."

**Seb Andrews**

"If you're asking about cash price I would say the minimum is a mere $25,000 US. That's without anything in trade. What are you willing to offer, Gregory? What is worth $5,000 American Dollars that you could have to give me? Hmm." I lean in to his neck and nip his ear a bit. "I'm listening."


	21. Chapter 21

**Phillippe**

"You look like you're not feeling very well, sir. If you'll allow me, I've got just the thing for you." I get up and pat his shoulder heading toward the bar. I pour him a glass of tonic water and a liberal sprinkling of the powder from the baggie in my pocket. The powder quickly dissolves, and I add a twist of lemon to disguise the taste, and return to where he's sitting on the sofa. "Here, drink this. It will settle your stomach."

**Sherlock**

I take a sip and squint at the lemon taste. "I guess I should say thank you." But I won't. I glance over to where Gregory has disappeared with the miniature Mycroft.

**Phillippe**

"You'll feel better in no time." I smile at him sweetly. I sit next to him - but not too close - and ask, "So, how long have you and Mr. Cumberbatch been together? You are an adorable couple."

**Sherlock**

"Thank you." I take another sip and set it drink on the table. "Do you know where they went? Maybe I should go get him. He gets lost easily."

**Phillippe**

"Oh, I'm sure he and Mr. Andrews are getting along just fine." I put a hand briefly on his shoulder, to keep him from getting the idea of going off to look for his husband. "You should finish your drink."

**Sherlock**

"I don't like my drink." Wait. I didn't mean to say that. Not out loud. "I want my Gregory. You should go get him." Why am I being so... __needy? whiney? childish?__

**Phillippe**

"You'll feel _much_ better after you finish it." I say sweetly. "Consider it medicinal."

**Sherlock**

"I don't like medicine." There's something not right. My eyes get a blit blurty. Is Phlippe closer? He looks closer.

**Phillippe**

I slide a bit closer, my arm resting on the back of the sofa behind him. "There, there. I bet you're feeling a bit better already, aren't you?" His eyes are beginning to droop a bit, but he's still fighting it.

**Sherlock**

"Where's Graham? Gavin? Gar-gory? The husband one."

**Phillippe**

"Hush, my sweet. Just close your eyes." I gently rest my arm around his shoulders.

**Sherlock**

My head falls against his shoulder. "Maybe a bit of a nap."

**Phillippe**

"There's a good boy," I brush a hand along his cheek. _He certainly is a pretty young thing_ I feel him go limp against my shoulder, and let him slump across my lap, tucking a pillow under his head as I run my fingers through his lovely curls.

**Sherlock**

I lay in that place tween wake and asleep. My brain wanders around my Gregory Room watching images of times we've shared before and after we got 'married'.

**Phillippe**

Once I'm reasonably certain he's asleep, I carefully feel his pockets, slipping his wallet out and relieving him of a bit of cash before returning the wallet to its proper place.

Having rifled through his pockets, all I find is some cash and a hotel room key. I freeze when he shifts sleepily, his hand now resting against my knee. I run my fingers along his pale white arm, stopping at his wristwatch - a very nice wristwatch, I might add. I carefully remove it and tuck it into my pocket.

**Sherlock**

I can tell some time has passed but not how much. When I open my eyes I see Phillippe looking down at me. __down?__ Pieces start sliding in to place. "You drugged me."

**Phillippe**

"You were very tired, it seems. You just needed rest." I pet his hair gently.

**Sherlock**

"No. I was drugged." Or maybe I wasn't. I did have quite a lot of tea and brownies earlier. I try to sit up but my body is so heavy. "How long was I napping?"

**Phillippe**

"Stay still. You'll be fine in a few minutes. You didn't sleep very long... 20 minutes at the most." I say sweetly to him.

**Sherlock**

Hmmm. My eyes close as he pets my hair again. I feel a blanket spread across my lap and drift off again.

**Phillippe**

I tuck a blanket around the posh young man, and he sleepily snuggles into my lap. I watch him sleep longingly.

**Sherlock**

I wake up to a loud crash noise. "What was that? Where's Gregory? Why am I in your lap??"

**Phillippe**

I put my hands up, professing my innocence. "They're in the parlor."

**Sherlock**

I stumble when I stand too quickly but quickly right myself. "Gregory!" I shout his name as I head toward the room next door. "Gregory? Are you---" The sight of another man, the MyFat looking one no less, makes me calmly furious. "I see. Excuse me." I push past Phillippe and out the store.

**Greg**

I push Seb away roughly - the man was practically on my lap! - and quickly get to my feet. "Sherlock! Wait!" I glare at Seb. "I still want that ring... looks like I might need it to make this up to him."


	22. Chapter 22

**Sherlock**

I'm no less than three streets away when he catches up to me. "Don't bother explaining, Gavin. I get it."

**Greg**

I’m breathing hard, having run to catch up with him. "Sherlock, stop. Listen to me." I grab his arm.  "We talked about this..."

**Sherlock**

I turn around with stormy ire in my eyes as I stalk up to him like a predator would prey. So low only he could possibly hear me I try to clue him into the situation. "Don't just see, observe." I flick my eyes to our dubious spy.

**Greg**

I look at him carefully, unconsciously taking a step back as he approaches me. "Please don't be angry with me..." I start to say, following his eyes.

**Sherlock**

"Why wouldn't I be angry, you daft twit?!" I flail my hands as I yell at him loud enough for anyone to hear. "I bet you even made plans to meet up with him later tonight. Didn't you?!"

**Greg**

"Well, I -" I run my hand nervously through my hair. "I need to pick something up from him. I won't be at the warehouse long, honest."

**Sherlock**

"Honest, my arse. We were supposed to do this together and now... Now. You just have to do everything on your own don't you."

**Greg**

"Look..." I start to sound angry myself. "It's not my fault. It was HIS idea, not mine."

**Sherlock**

"It was his idea to crawl on your lap and you could do nothing to stop him. Are you really that weak?" I start to get angry for real.

**Greg**

"Actually, no." I lower my voice to a rough whisper. "His idea was to bend me over the sofa and fuck me senseless, but I was able to convince him that was not going to happen."

**Sherlock**

"Ah. I see. Is that what you want Gregory? Someone who will take charge and fuck you senseless?" We are only a hair’s breadth away from each other now.

**Greg**

A small smile creeps onto my lips. "You know anyone who can do the job?"

**Sherlock**

I grab his hand and pull him towards the hotel. "You will come with me." I don't bother saying another word on the brisk walk there. The entire time, Mycroft's dirty worker is trying his hardest to keep up but not be too obviously.

**Greg**

I try my hardest not to start giggling as Sherlock nearly drags me up the street toward our hotel.

**Sherlock**

We make our way to the room as quickly as possible before Gavin ruins everything by laughing.

**Greg**

As soon as we get onto the lift - alone - and the door closes, I shove him up against the wall and kiss him.

**Sherlock**

"What was that for?" I check my lip to see if it's bleeding because of how hard he kissed me.

**Greg**

"I need a reason to kiss you now?" I say with a grin as I chuckle. "That was an excellent performance, by the way... or are you really angry with me?"

**Sherlock**

I toy with the idea of pretending to be angry. "Perhaps. Depends."

**Greg**

"Depends on?" I nip at his collar bone.

**Sherlock**

"Whether or not you liked MiniMycs grubby little paws on your body." I place my hands where the oily tramp had his less than an hour earlier.

**Greg**

"Of course I didn't, you jealous git." I grin at him. "I can't wait to get out of these clothes and get into the shower, actually." The lift opens onto our floor, and I pull him toward our suite.

**Sherlock**

"Hmm. And what about that comment of him fucking you senseless?" I drop my clothes where they may as I walk to the liquor cabinet to pour us some fine Scotch.

**Greg**

"Well, based on how handsy he was getting, and how he was willing to knock [$5,000](https://www.facebook.com/messages/t/1732947446812066) off the price of the ring in exchange for... favors... I can't imagine he only wanted a peck on the cheek." I accept a glass from him and take a long drink from it.

**Sherlock**

"Hah. All Phillippe offered was drugs and petting. After he cleaned me out." I purposely leave my words vague to rile him up.

**Greg**

"Well, to be fair, you **did** drug him last time..."

**Sherlock**

Pfft "Semantics."

**Greg**

"I assume that's where your watch went, then?" I nod at his bare wrist with the telltale watchband tan line on it.

**Sherlock**

"And a few other things..." I toe off my shoes and socks leaving me only in my slacks. "I guess I should be happy that I got off so easy." He isn't biting at any of my innuendos of the old codger’s behaviour. __damn him for being such a good detective__

**Greg**

"He may be a dirty old man, but a willing partner is far more fun." I wink at him.

**Sherlock**

"Maybe for -you-." A flush of ire tinges my vision as I wonder how willing a partner was Geoff with ... Ugh I can't think of any more insults to match his close resemblance to my older brother.

**Greg**

I can see a flash of - anger? annoyance? - cross his face. "Believe me, I was anything but willing. I was close to having to hit him when you walked in."

**Sherlock**

I scoff at his placating words. "No. You weren't. If you weren't still in freeze mode when I came in I would've believed you were reciprocating his actions. Plus you're not an idiot that would ruin this assignment for something so trivial as snogging." It's all part of the job sadly.

**Greg**

"Don't tell your brother, but I couldn't care less about the assignment anymore. He's got enough information at this point. Me getting on my knees wasn't going to help." I snap a little, immediately feeling bad about it.

**Sherlock**

For a moment I completely lose my composure. "Why in fuck it all do you keep insinuating you would be sucking him off or that he would be FUCKING YOU?! In GOD’S NAME IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT? To be taken?? If that's what you want, you need to tell me. I can't read your mind dammit." I grab the decanter and storm into the loo, locking the door behind me.

**Greg**

I start after him, only to have the door slammed in my face. "Sherlock, come on..." I hear muffled grumbling through the door, and throw up my hands. I grab a pillow and a blanket off the bed and walk into the sitting room, hoping the sofa is even half as comfortable as the one I have at home.

**Sherlock**

I set up for a bath with the decanter on the side of the tub and bubbles filling the air with their fragrance. I unlock the door and poke my head out to see Gregory on the sofa. I can't apologize yet but I miss him already. "The tub is big enough for two. -If- you care to join me." I return to the bath ready to make peace with the fact that I've buggered it up so bad he will never forgive me.

**Greg**

I look up at his invitation? "Really? You're not just going to keep yelling at me, are you?"

**Sherlock**

"No." I probably whisper too quietly for him to hear me.

**Greg**

I get up off the sofa and head quietly toward him, slipping my hand over his when I reach him. "Please..."

**Sherlock**

"Promise." I press the button to start the jets so it will be a bit too loud to talk right now.

**Greg**

I follow him to the tub, settling in front of him, leaning my head on his shoulder as he leans back against the wall. The jets make for a bit too much background noise to have a conversation, but given that he's still a bit annoyed with me, I'm OK with that.

**Sherlock**

As he settles into me I can feel his muscles, and my own, start to relax. So many things I want to tell him... I'm sorry. I'm not angry at you. I trust you. Instead I just kiss the top of his head and stroke my hand on his bicep.

**Greg**

_We understand each other so well_ I think to myself, smiling as he kisses the top of my head. I catch his hand and bring it to my lips, kissing his knuckles softly as I look into his eyes. apologetically.

**Sherlock**

It takes only a second of deduction to see I have been forgiven and he is sorry as well. I use my toe to turn off the jets. "What's the plan for tonight? Meeting him somewhere to make the trade I would assume. When should we leave?"

**Greg**

"I'm supposed to meet him - alone - at 10pm, around the back of the shop." I reply quietly.

**Sherlock**

"And are you? Going alone, that is." _I trust him_

**Greg**

"I think I have to. Once we make the exchange, your brother's people take over, and we spend the rest of the week ignoring the world." I trace my hand lightly over his chest.

**Sherlock**

"I trust you. Doesn't mean I like it." Doesn't mean I won't follow either.

**Greg**

"I appreciate that - I don't like it either, but sometimes it's necessary." I look up at him again. "Just don't be seen, all right?"

**Sherlock**

"Thank you." I take his hand and hold our entwined on his chest. "It's good you understand."


	23. Chapter 23

**Sherlock**

Some time passes in a comfortable silence before I poke his shoulder to urge him out of the bath. "Come on. Get up."

**Greg**

I'm lounging peacefully against him when he starts poking me, telling me to get up. "Five more minutes... I'm comfortable here..." I say almost sleepily, snuggling against him.

**Sherlock**

"Ok but that's five less minutes in bed with me."

**Greg**

"Fine." I'm really hoping to get a couple hours sleep before I have to meet with Andrews and wrap up the case. I climb out of the tub, grabbing a towel for myself and handing Sherlock one as he follows me.

**Sherlock**

After we are out of the tub and dry I lead him over to the bed to lay down. "Where are you meeting him?"

**Greg**

"Around the back of the shop. There's an alleyway leading to a delivery deck back there." I reply as I climb under the covers.

**Sherlock**

I let him rest as I plan the best way to follow him. It helps to know the spy will trail him, hopefully better than he has been now that we've passed a message on to him, and that I know where he will be. A quick look at the clock tells me I've spent two hours making at least forty contingency plans.

**Sherlock**

"Wake up."

**Greg**

"Mmmph." I snuggle up into him.

**Sherlock**

When poking his arm and head doesn't work, I lean my head down and lick his nose.

**Greg**

I open my eyes and look up at him. "Really?" I sit up with a stretch and a yawn. "Time to get going, is it?"

**Sherlock**

"Hmmmm? Yes. You should get going." There are now forty-nine contingency plans.

**Greg**

I look over at the clock. "I've got a little bit of time." I curl back up against his warmth. "I hope I don't see you until after everything's done with." _Meaning again, don't get us caught_

**Sherlock**

I scoff. "Of course not." __meaning I won't get caught__ "What do you expect will happen tonight?"

**Greg**

"In a perfect world, I'll hand him the cash, he'll hand me the rings, and your brother's people will swoop in and take over." I reply. "More likely, he's going to try to convince me to earn that 'discount' he was offering, I'll refuse, he'll grudgingly sell to me anyway... maybe try to force the issue - at which point, I get to punch him before Myc's people come in."

**Sherlock**

"No one else will be there?" I know full well that even an idiot like BabyCroft is not dumb enough to be there alone.

**Greg**

"I'm betting the actual sellers will be there for this. It's a lot of cash for them to trust Andrews with, after all."

**Greg**

"You're sure our easily-embarrassed friend will be there, yeah?"

**Sherlock**

"Only if he wants to remain a Citizen of England. Mycroft may be an idiot but he isn't stupid." Brother Mine would never let me get hurt but I doubt the same attention to health will be given to Lestrade.

**Greg**

"I'll be honest, I just want this all to be over. Much rather spend the rest of the week in bed... preferably with you." My fingers trace over his chest.

**Sherlock**

Unsure of how to express concern for him I did the only thing I've known to work. "Cake. Do you like cake? We should order you some before you go."

**Greg**

"Why don't you pick something for us? Something with fruit, maybe." I kiss him, and start to climb out of bed. "Something creamy, and messy, and that I can lick off you later." I give him a wink.

**Sherlock**

The people in charge of room service gave me a number to text instead of calling them. I appreciate their thoughtfulness, but it was not my fault I made that inept waitress cry. "Done."

**Greg**

I pull on a t-shirt and jeans, throwing on my leather jacket to ward off the cool night air. I check my watch - 9:30pm. "All right, I know you won't stay here if I tell you to, but please love, do not get caught." I walk over to the edge of the bed where he is sitting, and lean in to kiss him. "I don't want you to get hurt, and I definitely don't want to deal with your brother if we blow the mission."

**Sherlock**

"But. Wait. Food." I'm not ready for him to leave just yet but no idea how to ask him to stay.

**Greg**

"Later. I don't want to be late." I pull away from him and head for the door.

**Sherlock**

As I cancel my order I receive a text from Brother Mine.

**Mycroft**

**Text to Sherlock** I understand that Andrews is nearly in your grasp.

**Sherlock**

**text to Brother Mine** If you're ever in need of a doppelganger I know the perfect person.  
__if he survives through the night__ -SH

**Mycroft**

  **Text to Sherlock** I hope this one spends a long time in prison. How is Lestrade doing?

**Sherlock**

Finally I've finished getting ready to spy on the spy who is spying on the DI.

 **text to FatCroft** Why don't you ask your minion? Ask him for a -detailed- report.

**Mycroft**

**Text to Sherlock** I want YOUR opinion, brother

**Sherlock**

**text to Mycroft** He is as good as was expected from you. __and a wonder in places you weren't expecting__

 **text to Myc** Have you ever been... in love?

**Mycroft**

I look at my phone, slightly confused. **Text to Sherlock** I shudder to think why you might ask me this.

**Sherlock**

**text to Professional Cake Eater**   No reason. Nevermind. -SH

**Mycroft**

A very odd line of questioning, even from my brother. **Text to Sherlock** Have you?

**Sherlock**

The only thing that keeps me from ignoring his text is knowing that he would then call me.  
**text to British Government** Have I what? Washed my hands after using the loo? Yes, I did. Thank you for asking.

**Mycroft**

I shake my head - obviously, he's dodging the issue. **Text to Sherlock** Fine, then. Keep me advised as to the conclusion of the issue.

**Sherlock**

**text to Mycie** Thank you.  For everything.  - SH

**Mycroft**

**Text to Anthea** Please advise when the Martinique mission is concluded. It should be this evening.

**Sherlock**

**text to QueenCroft** I have some information your spy may have missed and I would prefer not to share it during debriefing on my return.  - SH

**Mycroft**

**Text to Sherlock** If it is directly related to the case, then you are obligated to provide it. Anything else is at your discretion.

**Sherlock**

**text to Mr MI13 or something** If you prefer not to know...

**Mycroft**

**Text to Sherlock** Something tells me I don't want to know.

**Sherlock**

**text to no fun** It will wait til the group debriefing then.  Must go now.  - SH


	24. Chapter 24

**Greg**

I show up at the designated location a few minutes early, and Seb shows up with another man... not Phillippe, so probably the smuggler. The two of them make a point of not giving me a name, in fact. After some small talk, Seb and I agree on a price, and I show him the cash. As soon as we make the exchange, the scrawny spy that's been following Sherlock and me comes out of the shadows, gun drawn.

**Seb Andrews**

We were ambushed! I knew better than to trust a pretty face. Oh what a pretty face. And that body... While Greg and his friend are busy subduing a very unwilling cousin of mine I quietly make my way into the van’s driver seat.

**Greg**

I help Myc's agent take care of the smuggler, then hear the slam of a car door behind me. I whirl around and see that Seb is trying to make his getaway. I sprint over to the nearest van door - on the passenger side - and fling it open, launching myself into the vehicle with surprising agility. After briefly wrestling with Seb, I manage to yank the keys from the ignition and toss them away. Then he really starts to fight me.

**Seb Andrews**

"You! Idiot! What are you doing?? Let go of me." Realizing I can't win I fall limp in his arms. "Or is this how you like it? A bit rough... We could be partners if you want." I grind my leg against his crotch and watch his eyes darken. "You can even keep the Princess."

**Greg**

"No deal, Seb. I'm quite satisfied with my current arrangement." I grab his arm and haul him out of the van, twisting his arm up behind him as I march him back to where Myc's people are shoving the smuggler into a car. "Hey guys, how about another set of cuffs? I didn't bring mine, you know..." One of the agents tosses me some cuffs, and I momentarily loosen my grip when catching them.

**Seb Andrews**

Having the joy of many older cousins I have learned how to slip out of reach in certain situations. This being one of them. When his grip loosens on my wrist I pull out and hit him with all the force I can muster. I can feel the crunch of bone hitting bone. My knuckles and his cheek.

**Greg**

I see stars when Seb's fist connects and stumble back from him, luckily managing to keep my feet. He is standing there, grinning like a loon at his handiwork. "Oh, so you wanna play, hm?" I move quickly, surprising him with a jab to the gut followed by a left hook to the chin, knocking him back into the warehouse wall behind him. I'm still wringing my left hand as his eyes roll back and he slumps to the floor, unconscious. I pull him roughly, laying him out onto his stomach and putting a knee in his back to cuff him. Myc's agents rush over and manage to manhandle Seb into the vehicle with the smuggler.

**Sherlock**

Having chosen to walk instead of take a cab I was just in time to see the nasty Gollum hit Gregory. When my DI retaliated in was swift and thorough. His face was streaming blood by the time I ran to his side.

**Greg**

I am leaning against the wall when suddenly Sherlock appears next to me, starting to fuss over me. "It looks worse than it is. A wash-up, some ice, I'll be fine."

**Sherlock**

"Medic!" I remove my t-shirt and stop the flow of blood. "You're a bloody mess." Ugh, even I want to slap myself for that horrendous pun.

**Greg**

One of the agents rushes over with a small first aid kit. "Do you need an ambulance, Mr. Lestrade?" She asks meekly. "No, no, I'll be fine." I take the offered kit and water bottle. "Sherlock, let's get me cleaned up a bit, then go back to the hotel, yeah?" I take a look at the damage in the side mirror of the van - just a small cut, but of course, it's made a terrible mess. I wet some of the gauze and clean away some of the blood, hissing at the pressure.

**Sherlock**

It’s more than the small cut he wants me, and the Medic, to believe it to be. When the EMT comes over with a shock blanket I begin to laugh at the thought of big tough man in an orange blanky. "Ok. Ok. Let’s get out of here."

**Greg**

Relieved, I let Sherlock lead me back to the hotel, avoiding the obvious stares of some of the late-night patrons and staff in the lobby as we walk straight to the (thankfully empty) lift. "Text your brother and tell him it's over, would you? And I think we need at least a week more to recuperate."

**Sherlock**

**text to Mycroft** success. taking leave. do not bother us for a week.

"Done." I aid him into the bathroom and turn on the shower.

**Mycroft**

**Text to Sherlock** Congratulations on a job well done. I do hope Lestrade's injury is minor

**Greg**

"Really, love... I'm fine. Just a scratch..."

**Sherlock**

The phone vibrates but I ignore it. It's probably Myc telling me something or other. "A scratch, hmm. Do scratches typically leave a black eye and bloody nose?" Right under his eye is already swell and turn colours.

**Greg**

"When you get them the way I did, yeah. But I'll live." I step into the shower. "You gonna join me?"

**Sherlock**

"Someone has to take care of you so you don't exacerbate  your injuries." I grab the flannel and gently rub his face clean.

**Greg**

"Ow! Easy, there. It may be minor, but it _does_ hurt..." I wince as he wipes the flannel over my cheek.

**Sherlock**

"Of course. Wouldn't want to irritate your -scratch-." I roll my eyes at him so hard it’s audible.

**Greg**

"Now you're just being difficult," I grin and push him under the spray.

**Sherlock**

Grabbing the nozzle off the clip that holds it up I growl at him to stop fussing. "Let me do this Lestrade."

**Greg**

I push him against the wall, pressing my whole body up against him. "Or what?" I grin, nibbling at his ear.

**Sherlock**

"Your stunt has thoroughly ruined my plans for tonight." I push him away, gently, and continue rinsing him down.

**Greg**

I pout playfully. "Oh, I bet I could still manage most of them."

**Sherlock**

"Not the ones that mattered." I grumble at him before I turn the spray on myself to rinse off his blood.

**Greg**

"So tell me, then, what exactly did you have planned?"

**Sherlock**

"I was going to. Do that thing. That you said. But. Nevermind."

**Greg**

"Order dessert? So I can lick it off you?" I punctuate my question with a long lick up his neck. "I can still do that... tongue didn't get injured."

**Sherlock**

"No... The other thing." I turn off the water and grab for towels for us both.

**Greg**

I dry off rather quickly, and wrap my arms around his waist, nuzzling against his still-damp neck. "I don't recall what that was, love... remind me."

**Sherlock**

"The. Umm. The me taking you thing." I briefly look him in the eye and try to will my erection down.

**Greg**

I brush my hand lightly across his cheek. "We can still do that, you know." I look at him tenderly. "You're not going to hurt me."

**Sherlock**

I nod but have doubts. "You weren't supposed to get hurt tonight either."

**Greg**

"I know, but you'll be gentle, yeah?" I kiss his neck softly and smooth my hands from his waist to his hips. "We'll take things as slow as you want."

**Sherlock**

"I thought you might not want gentle. You were quite graphic in your description of that rat and what he wanted." The thought of Seb’s hands all over -my- Gregory... Grr. Flashes of that slimy snake trying to snog -MY- DI. No. Not ok. "Can I poison him now?"

**Greg**

I laugh lightly. "He's the British Government's problem now, so probably not." I gently steer him toward the bed. "And I like gentle... I think I'll like it even more from you."

**Sherlock**

"Maybe just a little poison?" I smile and let him lead me to the bed.

**Greg**

"No more work talk." I kiss him, catching his lower lip in my teeth softly. "We're on vacation now." I push him onto the bed, my lips never leaving his.

**Sherlock**

I push my hips up to rub against him but the towels are in the way. I wrap my leg around him and flip our positions. After removing the offending barrier I take a moment to look at him. "Are you ok, love?"

**Greg**

"Yes, I'm fine." I reply, reaching for his hand and guiding it toward my aching cock. "But you can improve on that."

**Sherlock**

I take his dick in hand and start to stroke him while we kiss. Soon enough there's a drop of precum at the tip of his penis. "Hand me the lube."

**Greg**

I moan against his lips when he starts stroking me, my hips jerking against his hand. I reach blindly for the bedstand drawer, grabbing the requested bottle and handing it to him. I lift one knee, resting my foot flat on the bed.

**Sherlock**

"Do you want me to prepare you...? I, umm, don't know how."

**Greg**

I grab his wrist to slow his stroking, so I can find my voice again. "Use your fingers, just stretch the muscle a bit." I say as I catch my breath. "Lots of lube. Go slow." My hips buck against his hand involuntarily - being in his grasp but completely still is sweet torture.

**Sherlock**

I squeeze the bottle anxiously. More lube than expected squirted from the bottle, soaking my hand and his abs. "Oops?"

**Greg**

I jump as a splash of cool lube hits my stomach. "Hang on a sec, love... I've got a better idea." With a whimper, I take his hand off my cock. "Lie back." I ease him onto his back, scooping up the puddle of lube on me and applying it liberally to his cock, stroking softly.

**Sherlock**

"But. I. You. Ok." I lay down with minimal protest but maximum pout.

**Greg**

I lean over and kiss him. "Don't fuss. You'll like it - trust me. You just lie back and let me do all the work, yeah?" I put more lube in my hands and continue stroking him with one hand, while reaching back and working myself open with the other.

**Sherlock**

I lift up to lean on my hands so I can kiss him without him having to bend down. "I trust you. You will show me another time?"

**Greg**

I smile and kiss him again, my tongue edging against his, as I shift onto his lap, lining myself up against his cock and slowly lowering myself with a loud moan.

**Sherlock**

The feeling is... Excruciating. Bliss. Eternal. Hot. Wet. "Fuck." I grab his hips as he is lowering himself to stop him. "Wait. Too much, too soon. Too good."

**Greg**

I whine as he digs his fingers into my hips. "Please... please..." I beg, almost breathless. It may be too much, too soon for him, but it's not nearly enough for me. "I need you..." I nip at his throat.

**Sherlock**

I loosen my hands and he drops. I will later recall that as the instant I knew that sentiment changes everything, for the better. I grab hold the sheet tight enough to feel it rip. "Gregory."

**Greg**

"So... good... God, Lock... you're incredible." My thighs tremble as I hold still, to let us both adjust to the storm of sensations. I push him down into the pillows, putting soft kisses all over his neck and chest.

**Sherlock**

I run my hands up from mid back to his upper thigh. A hard grab of his arse has him moaning. "I can feel you when you do that. Delicious."

**Greg**

"Told you you'd like it." I murmur against his skin. I rock against him slightly, and smile at his reaction.

**Sherlock**

I run my hands up from mid back to his upper thigh. A hard grab of his arse has him moaning. It is hard to concentrate but I'm aware enough to wonder if -he- is enjoying it. "Are you... Is this... Fuck! I mean..." __what do I mean?__

**Greg**

"Sshhh," I kiss him into silence. "Stop analyzing things. Just feel." I rock against him again, more firmly, letting my head fall back with pleasure. "You are perfect, Sherlock... absolutely fucking perfect..." I gasp as he slides into me.

**Sherlock**

"That's all I can do. I feel." He does a swivel motion with his hips that causes me to jerk my hips up and pull him down at the same time.

**Greg**

My movements become smoother, raising myself up and letting him thrust up into me. I lean back slightly, resting my hand on his thigh to keep my balance.

**Sherlock**

Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture reaches its crescendo in my mind. The pleasure is too grand and it overwhelms me. "Greg. Gregory. I'm... I can't... Please." This must be what he meant when he said he would fuck me stupid.

**Greg**

I'm close to the edge myself, and pick up the pace slightly. I lean forward and whisper against his lips "Come for me, Sherlock." I kiss him hard as I feel his body stiffen beneath me

**Sherlock**

His husky voice and the barest scratch of his beard are my final undoing. I grip right above his hip bones and pull down tight.

**Greg**

Sherlock arches against me, his fingers digging almost painfully into my hips as I feel him pulse inside me. I press my face into his neck, muffling my own cries of ecstasy as I come hard enough to see stars.

**Sherlock**

The warmth on my abs caused by someone other than me is yet another new experience he has given me. A few moments later I feel him attempting to sit up. I wrap around him tightly to stop him. "Stay. Just a moment."

**Greg**

With a peaceful smile, I settle back against him and nuzzle against his neck. I kiss up to his ear. "I won't be a minute... just want to get us cleaned up..."

**Sherlock**

"Let it wait." I soak in all the data available. The scent, his heartbeat, the sentiment of it all.

**Greg**

I chuckle. "You're thinking again... Maybe I didn't do a good enough job..."

**Sherlock**

"NoPe. Not thinking. Feeling. Mostly memorizing this. Right here, right now, with you." I kiss his forehead and sigh as I pull away.

**Greg**

"Well, if you ever forget, I'll do my best to repeat the experience for you." I give him cheeky smile and kiss him, long and slow, as I move off him. "Now stay right there. Don't move." I kiss the tip of his nose playfully and hurry to the en suite to clean up and get a damp flannel to clean him up. I return to find him exactly as I left him - an absolute vision... skin flush, eyes sparkling, a blissful look on his face. "I could look at that every night," I sigh.

**Sherlock**

"Will you? I mean would you? No, I meant... Well... Upon my return to London I will have a new flat and possible need for a roommate. So you wouldn't -have- to share a room with me but--" I finally regain the ability to shut myself up.

**Greg**

"A new flat, hm? You might be able to convince me," I wink at him. I toss the flannel to the floor near the en suite and curl up beside him, pulling the light sheet over us. "First, let's see if we survive a week in paradise, hm? I might even let you out of bed."

**Sherlock**

With a yawn and a stretch I wrap my limbs around him despite the humidity. "What do you want to do next in our Honeymoon, Mr Cumberbatch?" I will have to harass Mycroft until he tells me where he for such an atrocious alias for us.

**Greg**

I stretch lazily. "Well, first, I say we attempt a decent night's sleep. Then, I believe you still owe me a dessert I can eat off you. Maybe I can drizzle you with honey?" I grin at him.

**Sherlock**

"Honey?" The thought of collecting various honeys from the many islands nearby has me excited to get started.

**Greg**

"Mmmhmm. I could smear a little honey here," I run my fingers down the length of his neck. "and lick your skin until it's gone. Unless you would like me to do that elsewhere," I give him a silly grin.

**Sherlock**

My cock does its best attempt at standing before it gives up. "Yes, all the places you want me to do on you."

**Greg**

"Hmm. That gives me lots of choices, then. Might take a couple of days alone." I relax into the pillows and pull him close, letting him rest his head on my chest. "Go to sleep... we have all week." My own eyes start getting heavy.

**Sherlock**

"As you wish." My eyes close as I enter my Mind Palace to record the details of this experience.


	25. Chapter 25

**Mycroft**

I'm sitting in my office at Diogenes when Sherlock comes breezing through the doors. As soon as the doors close behind him, I ask, "Here to give me the final report?"

**Sherlock**

"I won our bet. I expect you already have the keys to my new flat." He looks as relieved as me that I will be removing myself from his residence.

**Mycroft**

"First I need the report." I say firmly, showing him the set of keys in my hand. "Then you may have your winnings."

**Sherlock**

"What do you think you need confirmed?" How tedious he is being, pretending to not know everything that happened. "Have you found an appropriate use of your doppelganger?

**Mycroft**

"If you are referring to Mr. Andrews - who looks nothing like me, thank you - he was able to provide us with a wealth of information once in custody." I lean back in my chair. "How is the Detective Inspector doing? I understand he was injured during the arrest?"

**Sherlock**

I shrug my shoulders and continue to look disinterested. "It was barely a scratch. However we learned we do well together and once you -finally- give me -my- keys we can start moving in. I do have the spare room and his rent is exorbitantly too high." I can see the signs that he knows I am lying on many fronts. "Oh, what does it matter to you anyhow?"

**Mycroft**

"Even if you're not living under my roof, I feel an inexplicable need to watch over you, Sherlock." I look at the keys I'm holding. "I felt Lestrade was a good match for you, both professionally and personally. I just don't want you to get hurt."

**Sherlock**

"Sentiment, brother mine?" I reach for the keys. "We all get hurt, I've learned. Most recover, or so I've been told. Maybe you should open yourself up again. Gregory has... He... I'm... I'm better for having him in my life." I can feel the blush cover my cheeks.

**Mycroft**

"Are you?" I raise an eyebrow and pull the keys out of his reach. "And you accuse me of sentiment." I chuckle.

**Sherlock**

I stand in a tizzy. "Yes. I am. Give me the keys."

**Mycroft**

"So Lestrade will be sharing your flat, will he? An interesting turn of events." I toss the keys in the air lightly, as though daring him to catch them. "So good of him to help you with the rent."

**Sherlock**

I snatch the keys he lobbed at me. "I know you bought the entire building, Mycroft. Don't expect a check every month." On my way out the door I turn around to him to say one last thing. "Thank you."

**Mycroft**

I lean back in my chair, grinning smugly. "Of course, brother mine."


	26. Chapter 26

**Sherlock**

I open the door to 221 B to a fairly disgruntled DI carrying a large box. "I told you to hire movers."

**Greg**

"I don't have that much stuff, Sherlock. A couple of car loads is all. Most of the furniture can be binned, anyway - you said this place was furnished.

**Sherlock**

"As long as you don't expect me to help." I opened the door so he could see the flat. "The movers brought and unpacked my stuff yesterday."

**Greg**

"You just point me in the direction of the second bedroom, and I'll take care of everything." I say, looking around at the room.

**Sherlock**

I nod at his intelligent idea. "Yes. It would be easiest to keep your clothes there. So long as they don't get in the way of my experiments."

**Greg**

"Experiments?" I stop in my tracks. "I thought you had two bedrooms? Isn't one mine?"

**Sherlock**

"No. Why?" He has no need of a lab like I do. "What would you want a room for?"

**Greg**

"Well, I just thought... I mean, I didn't know if you wanted me to..." _Does he really want me to share his bed all the time? Are we that much a couple already?_

**Sherlock**

"Oh." My body tenses as awareness dawns on me. "I'll have everything moved in just a few moment." I head up the stairs to start packing.

**Greg**

"Sherlock, wait..." I set the box down and grab his arm. "I didn't say I didn't want to... share your room... your bed. I just didn't know you wanted that."

**Sherlock**

"Apologies. I should have asked. It will take less than an hour to move things to the kitchen table." I am terrible at this relationship stuff.

**Greg**

"Stop." I grip his arm harder. "I'm NOT telling you no. I'm asking what you want."

**Sherlock**

"I thought this is what was supposed to happen next." I stop trying to flee up the stairs but keep it open as a possible escape route. "You agreed to move in with me while we were in bed. I inferred you wanted to continue a romantic type of relationship. If you wish a less domestic one that could be acceptable."

**Greg**

"I do. But what do YOU want?" I grab both his arms and make him look at me.

**Sherlock**

"You..." I swallow and try again. "You do wish a less domestic one? I, uh, I see. I should not have assumed you wanted..." I make a motion encompassing the flat and myself.

**Greg**

I shake my head. "I want to continue the relationship we already have... romantic... domestic... all of it. With you. Do you want that with me?"

**Sherlock**

It takes a moment for what he said to click in my head. "Damn you Graham. You just wanted me to say I wanted you." I push his shoulder playfully with mine as I pass him on my way out of the stair well.

**Greg**

"No, that's not it. I wanted to hear you tell me that you wanted me in your life on a more permanent basis." I let him go, visibly frustrated. "That you weren't doing this solely because I wanted you to."

**Sherlock**

I reach out and grab the box out of his hands to set on the floor. "Detective Inspector Gregory James Lestrade." I move close to him and cup his face with my hands. "I want you. In my life. In my bed. In my mind. But not, unless under dire circumstances or if I need tea, in my lab." I retrieve the box and hand it to him. "Now get your arse to our room and unpack."

**Greg**

I grin and give him a peck on the cheek. "Yes, dear." I turn to put the box in the bedroom. Over the next several hours, I become intimately familiar with the stairs, and am starting to question the wisdom of moving to a second story flat each time my knees creak. Finally, I set down the last box. "Done." I huff, flopping onto the sofa.

**Sherlock**

I hand him a cold bottle of Heineken. "If you had listened to me and hired movers..."

**Greg**

"Shush." I grumble playfully as I take the bottle from him and take a long drink. I reach up and put an arm around his waist and pull him into my lap.

**Sherlock**

I manage to only spill a bit of the hideous drink when I'm manhandled into snuggling with him. "This is terrible. It would be perfect for experiments."

**Greg**

"The beer? Or sitting in my lap?" I wink. "Because I can improve on one of those things..."

**Sherlock**

I grab his beer and put it with mine on the floor. "The beer is a lost cause." The night lamps on the street start flickering on, leaving a shadowy silhouette of us on our ceiling. For whatever reason this makes me happy and I start to laugh a bit.

**Greg**

"In a good mood, are we?" I shift him around a bit so he's straddling me. I put a hand on the back of his neck and pull him in for a kiss.

**Sherlock**

"Of course. I have succeeded in removing myself from my brothers residence, acquired my own, and got a very beautiful DI to move in with me. I just need to put the open sign to my Consulting Detective firm up." I settle myself more firmly in his lap.

**Greg**

"A beautiful DI, hm?" I rub my hands over his arse and squeeze. "Anyone I know?"

**Sherlock**

"Hmmm... You may have heard of him." I intersperse my next words with kisses. "He is intelligent." kiss "Kind." kiss "Likes to laugh." kiss "Hair turning grey." kiss "absolute idiot in his choice of flatmates."

**Greg**

His silliness makes me giggle. "I don't think he's an idiot. He's managed to attract you, after all."

**Sherlock**

"True. Maybe he is mentally ill as well as an idiot."

**Greg**

"Am not." I mumble, pulling him down for another kiss, this one nice and slow, taking my time.

**Sherlock**

I move my arms to the back of the sofa to position myself better when I feel him since slightly. "Did you hurt yourself bringing that ungodly atrocity you call a lounge chair up the stairs?"

**Greg**

"No, of course not." I reply. _I wouldn't admit it if I had, either_

**Sherlock**

"Good. I was going to offer you a massage, but now you can take it back down while I make us something to eat." I pop off his lap after a quick kiss.

**Greg**

"But I like my chair... can't I keep it?" I sulk when he disappears off my lap.

**Sherlock**

"An arrangement could be made. Perhaps I could also have something... Unique?" As in the bee hives that have already been installed on the roof. Or the weapons grade ingredients being stored in my lab upstairs. Or... He may have to get more orange chairs. "You should take a shower before supper."

**Greg**

I groan as I lift myself off the sofa. My muscles ache, so a nice hot shower sounds like a good idea to me. "All right. You cooking, or ordering take-away?"

**Sherlock**

"What do you think?" I -can- cook. I simply -choose- not to. "Take your time."

**Greg**

I shake my head. "Someday, I'm gonna cook you a meal that'll be the best thing you've ever tasted." I stretch my arms upward, rolling my shoulders stiffly. "But not tonight." I wander the bedroom _our bedroom_ and head for the shower in the en suite.

**Sherlock**

While he is enjoying his shower, I set up a mock picnic in -our- room. I listen to him singing various songs from The Clash as I place small plates of various fruits, cheeses, nuts, and honey. Lots of honey. Most from the hives I maintain around the countryside but a few from our 'honeymoon' as well. As the water shuts off, and the final lyrics sung, I drop my robe and lay down in -our- bed.

**Greg**

I come out of the bathroom, one towel slung loosely around my waist, the other being used to dry my hair vigorously. I stop short when I'm greeted by the vision that is Sherlock, draped across the bed invitingly. "Well, hello there," I growl, throwing both towels to the floor as I stalk over to the bed.

**Sherlock**

The steam billows off of him as he exits. His ravenous look makes me blush. "I believe someone promised me that I would be covered in honey. Any idea who that was?"

**Greg**

"Sounds like the sort of thing a beautiful DI might suggest," I say with a grin as I climb onto the bed with him. "It does sound delicious, though." I take one of the open jars of honey and dip a finger into it, then smear it onto his lips. With a hungry grin, I lean over and kiss him thoroughly, using lips, teeth, and tongue to clear away the sweet treat.

**Sherlock**

My first thought is to tell him when and where that honey came from. That thought quickly flew away. I had an instinct to devour him as he was doing so to me. I dipped my finger in another jar and ran it from my jaw to my collar bone.

**Greg**

I grab his wrist and pull his honey-coated finger into my mouth, licking and sucking the honey off the long, slender digit while staring into those gorgeous eyes, whirling with color. When I finish that task, I immediately fall to the next one, and start licking and teasing my way from his lightly-stubbed jaw, down his neck, and to his collar bones as he moans beneath me.

**Sherlock**

His beard is the perfect level of scratchy and plush. His brown eyes sparkle in the light coming from the en suite. I take a piece of honeydew into my mouth before offering him a kiss. The juice spurts into my mouth when he bites down on it.

**Greg**

I smile as I bite a piece of the juicy melon off, licking at the bit of juice that runs down his chin. "Mmmm, tastes almost as good as you do, love."

**Sherlock**

"You smell like mine." He must have used my products instead of his own. "And taste like mine." My honey. "And look like all mine." My Gregory.

**Greg**

"I am all yours." I push him gently back into the pillows as I reach for the honey again, this time smearing some down the center of his chest, down to his navel.

**Sherlock**

I growl when he pushes me down. My genius brain has gone on vacation and left a lover running on instinct in its stead. "Mine. As I am yours."

**Greg**

I start peppering his chest with kisses, swiping over the honey with just the tip of my tongue.

**Sherlock**

"Mmmm that's good but I want more." My tongue is as loose as his is teasing.

**Greg**

I chuckle. "More? Like what? Tell me exactly what you want, Sherlock." I murmur as my tongue circles his navel.

**Sherlock**

"I want you to lick the honey off before you suck my dick down your throat. Then I want you to open me up with your sweet sticky tongue." Where did all this come from? "Then I am going to ride you while I leave marks all over your body."

**Greg**

I kiss along his hip bone. "Then that's exactly what I'm going to do for you." I work my way back up his body with my lips, sucking away the last of the honey.

**Sherlock**

"Good boy. Good boys get treats." I grab his arse and nip his lip. "Very good boys get to pick their treats."

**Greg**

"Mmmm. Am I a very good boy, then? Because I know what I want for a treat..."  I nip at his shoulder as my fingers dance down his body, stopping just short of their goal.

**Sherlock**

"Name it. You can have whatever you want." I spread my legs wider as I arch my hips up.

**Greg**

"I want this," I whisper in his ear as I move over him, catching his cock in my hand. I slide down his body, tantalizingly slowly, finally settled between his thighs.

**Sherlock**

I sit up a bit to watch what he's doing. My hand is pushing back the fringe of his bangs so I can see his eyes more clearly. "Lovely. My beautiful fox." His scruff is deliciously scratchy on my inner thighs.

**Greg**

Without (much) warning, I lean down and take him slowly into my mouth, my tongue memorizing the taste and feel of every bit of flesh. I shiver when he hits the back of my throat.

**Sherlock**

My head falls back like a marionette puppet who has had its strings cut. Both my hands grab the back of his head in an effort to push for more and pull back at the same time. "Fuck. I need to learn how to do that."

**Greg**

I bob my head slightly, enjoying the sounds I'm pulling from him as I suckle gently, relaxing a bit more each time he hits the back of my throat, until I finally can take him a bit farther.

**Sherlock**

My knees open fully as I plant my feet on the bed and push up a bit. "I'm ready for you to prep me."

**Greg**

I swallow him down one more time, letting my throat work against him for just a moment, as my fingers travel down the backs of his thighs.

**Sherlock**

The feeling of his throat swallowing around my cock is a sensation I doubt I'll ever get used to. My mouth salivates at the thought of using his techniques on him later. "I want to suck you off."

**Greg**

I growl as I pull back, my tongue curling around his head as I let his cock slide from my mouth. I nip at his inner thigh, then caress the mark with the flat of my tongue. "Decisions, decisions..." I chuckle.

**Sherlock**

"Which do you want more, love? My mouth or my arse? As long as I get that cock in me somewhere, and soon, I am happy to oblige."

**Greg**

"You're not making the choice any easier, love." I suck another purple mark into his tender inner thigh. "I want both... but I want your mouth first."

**Sherlock**

I almost miss what he's saying through the feel of blood rushing to where his teeth were on my thigh. "Stand beside the bed. I have something I want to try." A very entertaining video showed a young brunette man laying on his back on the bed while a slightly older gentleman fed him his cock. It allowed for deeper penetration.

**Greg**

"Hmm... I'm intrigued." I move up his body, planting kisses as I go, ending with a deep kiss on the mouth, my tongue parting his lips. We are both breathless when I finally break the kiss, and get to my feet.

**Sherlock**

I move so my head is slightly off the side of the bed while I'm on my back. I put a pillow under my hips and grab the lube before we get started. "You need to slowly push your dick down my throat like you are fucking it. Can you do that?"

**Greg**

I smile down at him, and stroke over his exposed neck. "Oh, I can do that. Just relax and enjoy." I stroke my cock a few times, I trace over his lips with a finger.

**Sherlock**

I lick his finger and suck it into my mouth while I open the lube and put a decent amount in my hand and stroke my own hard shaft.

**Greg**

I pull my finger from his lips and put my cock in its place. My fingers continue stroking his long neck as I move slowly into his mouth.

**Sherlock**

He supports my head so I can completely relax my neck and throat. This also gives him the ability to shift me as needed. I take the base of my cock in one hand and my balls in the other lubed one. A moan escapes me when he barely hits the back of my throat.

**Greg**

"You're sure?" I look into his eyes, and can see his emphatic yes in them. I smooth my hand down his neck, and push just a little further.

**Sherlock**

I pull my sack aside and push one finger in at the same pace he is pushing into my throat. My mouth and knees are as far open as can comfortably be possible. In this position sight means nothing so I close my eyes and let my other senses take over.

**Greg**

"God, you look amazing," I gasp as I watch my cock disappear into his mouth and feel his throat around it. I'm struggling to maintain control, to stay slow and gentle, but watching him fuck himself with his fingers is almost too much.

**Sherlock**

I add a second finger, then a third, as quickly as possible. The mild pain keeps me from cumming too quickly. His natural musk smell is an aphrodisiac of the best kind. __Gregory Lestrade: my new Addiction__

**Greg**

A sound comes from my throat that is part growl and part whimper. "I have to have you. Right now."

**Sherlock**

I can’t hear him since his taut thighs are on covering my ears but I know what he wants quickly when he pulls out and man handles me into turning around. He places my heels on his shoulders and I wait with the best kind of anticipation for what is coming next.

**Greg**

I grab the bottle of lube from beside him and pour it liberally into my hand, slicking up my cock. I kiss and nip along his leg as I slide into him, deliciously slowly.

**Sherlock**

His shaft slides along my prostate as he slowly enters me. I grab the base of my own cock to stop the threatening release. "Greg... Don't be gentle. I can take more. I want all you have to give. I -need- you." He makes my tongue loose and my brain fuzzy.

**Greg**

When our hips meet, I lean over and kiss him. "You want rough?" I whisper against his skin as I grab his wrists and pull them over his head, pinning them there. "I can give you rough." I pull back slowly and thrust back hard.

**Sherlock**

"Yes. I want to feel you for days. I want to feel like I'm yours." When he takes a brief moment to reposition I lift my head up and bite his shoulder. Not quite hard enough to break skin but enough that there will be a decent mark for a while.

**Greg**

I hiss at the bite, and press his wrists harder into the mattress, as I set a punishing rhythm thrusting against him. "You -are- mine. Only mine." I growl against his collar bone, grazing over it with my teeth.

**Sherlock**

It becomes too hard to think and impossible to talk. With both hands being pinned down I have no way of slowing the pressure building up. His abs press my penis between us just enough for stimulation but not fulfillment. A slight twitch and now he is pounding and stroking my prostate with every movement. "Holy... Fuck."

**Greg**

I feel him tensing up, and I let go of one wrist to reach between us and wrap a hand around his cock. "This what you need, Lock?"

**Sherlock**

"Mmm. MmHmm." I bite my bottom lip and nod my head eagerly.

**Greg**

I'm shuddering almost uncontrollably at this point. "So close... won't last much longer," I bite out as my rhythm starts to falter.

**Sherlock**

I lock my legs behind him and use the leverage to arch my back and thrust my hips up higher. The position causes my pelvic and glut muscles to tighten even more. "Fuck. Me." I can barely hold on to my own orgasm but I am determined to feel him cum first. "Cum for me Greg."

**Greg**

Hearing him purr those words in my ear sends of shudder through me, and I can't hold out any longer. With a breathy groan, I call out his name as I thrust into him one last time, cumming hard and fast.

**Sherlock**

That final itch scratched I completely let go. I feel a warm glow from my toes to top of my head. When Greg's weight drops on top of me I feel truly wanted and safe. __is this sentiment?__

**Greg**

I collapse onto Sherlock, with no regard to the sticky mess between us. Words escape me, so I just kiss him, softly at first, and comb my fingers through his curls.

**Sherlock**

I return his kisses until the mess between us starts to dry and itch. "Up. Shower time." I smack his arse to get him going.

**Greg**

I kiss him once more, then move off him, flopping onto my back next to him. "Too relaxed." I say, eyes half-closed.

**Sherlock**

I push him off me gently. "Then stay here." I go start the shower and return with a warm wet flannel for him. He's asleep before I finish wiping him down so I kiss his forehead and whisper goodnight.


	27. Epilogue

**Mycroft**

Final Update on the Martinique Gem Smuggling Case

Since capturing ring leader Jacques Bonaparte and his associates Seb Andrews and Phillippe Dubois, Mr. Dubois has been quite talkative, rendering a wealth of information in exchange for a reduction of his own sentence. As a result, Mr. Bonaparte and Mr. Andrews - the main members of the smuggling operation - will be serving their full sentences enjoying the hospitality of Her Majesty's Prison Service.

As for Detective Inspector Lestrade, I have quietly arranged for his reassignment, to a division that would be more to my brother's liking - Major Crimes.

Speaking of my brother and Lestrade, it seems my pairing them together has resulted in not only a successful conclusion to this case, but a successful relationship between them. I understand that Lestrade has requested a two-week holiday (which I will ensure will be granted), which the two of them plan to spend on Martinique together, returning as a married couple.

I wish them all the best in their future lives together.


End file.
